Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery
by Arynn Octavia
Summary: Harry has always been different. He’s gotten used to it by now. But when he realises how different he really is, will he and his friends be able to cope? Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy Slash. First time. Other Pairing: Hermione and Ron. AU after book 5. WIP
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 1

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

"Why don't you tell that to Mudblood and the Weasel?" Draco sassed at Harry. How dare he imply that the perpetual enmity between the four of them was solely Draco's fault? As Draco said those words Harry suddenly looked angrier than he had ever seen him. He pushed Draco hard enough that his back hit the wall behind him knocking his breath out of his lungs, and stepped forward so that his face was mere inches away from Draco's.

"You see, they're not even here, and yet you still insult them!" Harry bellowed. His voice roared in a low growl that sent shivers down Draco's spine. It suddenly struck him how sexy Harry actually was. He had never even considered it before, but now that Harry was raging at him, their faces so close together, feeling the warmth radiate from the other boy's body, Draco had to admit that Harry looked dangerous and enticing all at once. He could suddenly see why most of the girls (and some of the boys) in this school drooled over him at every possible moment.

There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Harry was a very powerful wizard, and with their bodies so close he could actually feel the energy Harry was giving off. Draco had always been attracted to power, and he suddenly understood why he had always tried to be the centre of Harry's attention.

Whenever he had insulted Granger and Weasley, he had always done so while looking Harry in the eye. When Harry wasn't around, Draco paid no attention at all to any of the other Gryffindors. He often wondered why he did this, but now it became abundantly clear, he liked it when Harry was focused on him. And right now, he liked that he had worked Harry up to the point that the black-haired boy was actually shaking with anger. The fact that words Draco had said had elicited such a strong response in Harry excited Draco and he suddenly felt an urge reach out and touch every bit of Harry he could reach.

-o-o-o-o-

Absentmindedly patting Hermione on the back, Harry muttered "I'll be back" and stormed out of the portrait hole. This was the last straw. Their latest encounter with Draco today had actually reduced Hermione to tears. Ron had always let Draco get to him with only the slightest provocation, but Hermione had (except for once in third year) always let Draco's insults roll off like water on a duck's back. But when Draco had learned about her relationship with Ron, he had found a new way to insult her that she found harder to ignore.

After the horrible things Draco had said, Hermione, with tears in her eyes, had run away down the corridor all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Ron and Harry each flashed Draco a hateful glare before following her up to the common room. After listening to Hermione sob for five minutes while Ron tried to comfort her, Harry had snapped and decided to find Draco and…he didn't know what.

The three of them had been happy ever since Ron and Hermione had gotten together. Harry was surprised that the time Hermione and Ron spent alone together didn't make him jealous. He was happy for his friends. Sure, they fought fifty percent of the time, but even during their fights; it was obvious that they love each other. They hadn't said it to each other yet, but Harry knew how they felt. He could see it in their faces when they looked at each other, when they fought, when they kissed.

Harry was only envious of what they had. He wished he could have that too. The only girl that he had ever kissed was Cho, two years ago, and that had just been a mess. He hadn't even had a crush on anyone since then. Was that normal, for a seventeen year old boy not show any interest in girls? He pushed the thought out of his mind and went looking for Draco.

He found Draco in the third floor corridor. When Harry spotted him he stopped in his tracks. Draco was leaning back against the wall in a casually elegant way, his ankles crossed, and his arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest. His robe was completely unbuttoned and Harry was surprised to see that underneath it he wore an outfit that would not be out of place in a muggle secondary school. He had on a grey tee shirt and black straight legged pants with lots of pockets, that were loose enough to sit low on his hips, but not baggy, held up with a brown leather belt. He was looking down at his feet and some of the hair that he usually wore slicked back had fallen in front of his eyes.

He didn't know why, but the sight of Draco momentarily gave Harry pause. Draco appeared somehow more human than Harry had ever seen him before. He still had the same haughty air about him that he always had, as if he were unconcerned with anything that was going on around him, but for once he also seemed a little pensive, complicated, and so beautiful. Huh? Where did that come from? Harry's righteous indignation returned with a vengeance and he stomped down the hall, stopping directly in front of Draco.

"What is your problem, Malfoy? Why did you say that to Hermione?" Harry fumed. Draco looked up at Harry through his fringe, a slightly confused look on his face. Harry elaborated, "You don't actually believe all of that pure-blood stuff, do you? Cos that's stupid! Nobody here is any better than anyone else."

"Why don't you tell that to Mudblood and the Weasel?" Draco said with a sneer, taking an indignant step toward Harry.

That's it, Draco had done it. Harry let some of the anger that was always just below the surface whenever the blond was around bubble out, as he raised his arms and shoved Draco hard in the chest. The air escaped Draco's lungs in a gasp of surprise as his back collided with the wall behind him, and Harry stepped up to him, growling, "You see, they're not even here, and yet you still insult them!"

Harry's eyes bored into Draco, for a long time they just looked at each other. Harry was finding it hard to read Draco's expression. Then Draco made a movement toward Harry, and Harry, letting his reflexes and instinct for self preservation take control, had his wand out and pointed at Draco's heart before the other boy had moved his hand a whole foot. As an after thought Harry looked down at Draco's hand, which had frozen in mid air, to see what the other boy had been trying to do. He was surprised that the hand didn't contain a wand. It wasn't even curled into a fist. It was held out straight with fingers outstretched as if Draco had been reaching out to brush dust off of Harry's shoulder as opposed to preparing for an attack.

Harry looked back up a Draco, who looked surprised but not that scared by the fact that Harry's wand was pointed at his chest. His fringe was still falling in front of his eyes. As Harry gazed at them he felt inexplicably drawn forward and had to drop his wand arm to make room for his body. As he stepped forward his torso collided with Draco's still outstretched fingers and he stopped moving.

'How can somebody so beautiful say something so ugly?' Harry mused to himself. A split second later, as he realised what he had just been thinking, he dropped his jaw and ran as fast as he could to Gryffindor tower.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 2

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

After Harry had fled from the hallway, Draco was left with even more to go over in his mind.

Draco's father had written that morning, and he was to leave for home after his last afternoon class to finally meet the Dark Lord. Draco couldn't say he was especially excited. He was curious, he was nervous, and most of all, he wondered why his father had set up this meeting in such haste, and on such short notice.

And now this confrontation with Harry…

Draco headed up to the headmaster's office. He knew he was early, but he was really just eager to get this meeting over and done with. As he reached the statue he recited the password Snape had given him (Jujube) and climbed the stairs beyond. His knock on Dumbledore's door echoed strangely in the small stone space. At Dumbledore's solemn "Enter" Draco opened the door.

"Good afternoon, professor, I was sent a letter this morning…"

"Yes, yes, Draco, of course," Dumbledore interrupted. "You are to be sent to Malfoy Manor this evening. Though, I must say, you are a bit early."

"Yes, professor, I was…My father…I'm anxious to see..." he trailed off, never finishing his explanation.

"Very well, I will prepare a Portkey for you now." Looking over his glasses at Draco, Dumbledore opened a desk drawer and placed a stone upon his desk. Pointing his wand at it he whispered, "Portus."

Draco looked down at the rock as it momentarily glowed blue, before turning back to a sandy pink color. Dumbledore stood upright as Draco merely stared down at the stone. After hesitating for what seemed to be a long time, Draco lifted his arm to touch the rock. Just as his fingers were mere inches away from it, he found Dumbledore's hand wrapped around his wrist. Startled by such a quick movement from such a seemingly old man, Draco merely looked up at the headmaster.

"As headmaster at Hogwarts I am very protective of my students, and if I feel anyone or anything is threatening one of them…"

Was that a threat? Draco couldn't tell. He simply stared at the professor before nodding curtly and reaching again for the rock, but Dumbledore's grip tightened.

"If you ever need anything, Draco, anything at all…My door is always open for my students."

Draco didn't know what to make of that invitation, but he did sense an urgency from Dumbledore, just as he had from his father's letter.

"Yes, professor," he said, reaching out again for the rock. Just before his finger landed on the surface Draco noticed that the rock was vaguely in the form of a heart.

He concentrated on the shape of it as the wind gushed around him. Landing on the walk outside Malfoy Manor, the rock slipped from his grip and crashed onto the paving stones, breaking into two clean pieces.

He kicked them aside as he entered the gates of Malfoy Manor.

-o-o-o-o-

Harry finally burst through the portrait hole out of breath. Hermione thought he looked wild eyed and panicky. He ran up to his dormitory and slammed the door behind him. Hermione and Ron looked at each other with puzzled expressions for about a minute until Ron thought to speak.

"What was THAT about?"

"I don't know, but he obviously doesn't want to talk about it, or he'd have come over here."

They sat in silence for twenty minutes. Hermione was checking Ron's essay for McGonagall on the ethics of using Transfiguration spells on Muggles, while Ron just sat there and thought about Harry. He wanted to go up and check he was okay, but he knew Hermione was right. Whatever was bothering Harry, he would tell them when he was ready. But Ron was willing to bet all the gold in Gringotts that this was entirely Malfoy's fault.

When Hermione had finished checking the essay and Ron had written his final draft, they gave each other a short kiss goodnight and made their way up to their dormitories. When Ron entered the room he shared with the other Gryffindor seventh year boys he shot a quick glance toward Harry's bed, but wasn't surprised to see the curtains drawn. Wishing he could somehow help his friend, he undressed quickly and went to bed.

-o-o-o-o-

For the next week Harry moped about, not talking to anyone unless they spoke to him first, and even then answering only in curt monosyllables. It was obvious to his friends that he was very troubled by something, but Hermione still thought it best to let him come to them with his problems first. However after a week watching his friend's constant downward spiral into depression, Ron had had enough.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and all of the Gryffindors had tried to talk Harry into going to the village, but he had simply answered "I need to…Library," and trailed out of the portrait hole disconsolately. Hermione and Ron had decided to stay behind, in case Harry should need them, and were surprised to see him return to the common room only five minutes after the rest of the students had departed for Hogsmeade. Without even looking up from the floor, he made his way to the staircases and up to his dormitory.

"That's it! I've had enough of this!" Ron bellowed, slamming his Chudley Cannons book down on the table with such force that a couple of second years nearby yelped. He stood abruptly and stormed over to the stairs.

"Ron, wait, I don't think you should…" was all Hermione got out before Ron had disappeared up the stairs, stomping on every stair as he climbed. Hermione let out a sigh and quickly followed Ron up the stairs hoping she wasn't too far behind to head off any trouble Ron might start. As she made her way up to the boy's seventh year dorm, she heard Ron yelling at Harry.

"…sulking around here like a child, we're your FRIENDS!"

"Oh no," she said under her breath as she picked up her pace. She burst in the room to see Ron struggling with Harry's bed curtains. The raven haired boy had obviously put some sort of sticking charm on them so they wouldn't open. She crossed the room quickly and laid a hand on Ron's upper arm. Succeeding to calm him down a little, she pulled him over to his own bed and sat him down. Keeping a calming hand on his shoulder, she turned toward Harry's bed and muttered quietly "_Finite Incantatem._"

Ron's snort from behind her let her know that he was again thinking logically, and finally realising how preposterous the situation of a few seconds ago had been. "Sure, take the easy way out, I could have done that any time," he whispered with a chuckle. Rolling her eyes, Hermione let go of him and stepped forward to open Harry's hangings.

She hadn't seen him up this close for a week, and the sight of him shocked her. He looked thinner and paler than usual. His eyes were so red it looked like he had been crying non stop since she last saw him. He was lying on his side curled into the foetal position, with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and staring straight ahead glassily. The sight of him tore at her heart so badly, that she thought she would start crying.

From behind her she felt Ron stand up and move to her side. "Bloody hell, mate. What's wrong?" The pain and worry were evident in his voice. Harry remained motionless on the bed, and he could have been mistaken for a statue, if not for a silent tear that was running down his cheek.

This unnerved his friends more than anything. Harry was not someone who could be described as unemotional. When Harry was livid, everyone in a ten kilometre radius was likely to know. But Harry wasn't often prone to displays of sadness. Ron and Hermione had never seen Harry looking so wretched, so raw with emotion. It was a heartbreaking sight, and they wanted to help. Ron reached out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry recoiled as if Ron had been brandishing a red hot poker, in turn causing Ron to jump back in surprise.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked, reaching out to try to touch Harry herself. He pulled back a little, though less dramatically than he had with Ron. And Hermione only hesitated for a second before continuing forward until she was touching Harry. At Hermione's gentle touch on his arm something in Harry seemed to break. Almost unobservable, his chest began to tremor, and slowly his shuddering built until he was sobbing intensely, yet silently.

Hermione's maternal instincts took over and she pulled Harry into a tight hug. His body was rigid and tense. Wondering what had upset Harry so, she looked up as Ron moved in closer to hug Harry too. As they sat with him, patting him consolingly on the back, until they could feel him slowly relax.

"What is it, what's bothering you?" Ron asked as they pat Harry on the back. Harry didn't say anything for a while. Finally when he was calm enough for speech, he sat back and looked at his friends as if he had never seen the likes of them before.

"You guys are my friends," he finally said.

It wasn't a statement. But it wasn't a question either. Not sure how it was meant, Ron just kidded, "Of course we are you dolt."

"But what makes someone a friend?" Harry continued. "I mean a Hufflepuff might say a friend is someone who is loyal to you," he said looking at Ron, and then turning to Hermione. "A Ravenclaw might say a friend is someone who helps you grow as a person." Looking out the window he added quietly, "A Slytherin might say a friend is someone who helps you get ahead in life. But which one is right? What IS a friend?"

"Well," Hermione injected, "they're all right." Harry and Ron looked at her in surprise while she continued, "People pick their friends based on what they find important or admirable in other people."

"So that's all friendship is, choosing who you will spend time with based on how they can help you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Partly, yes," Hermione admitted. "But that's not all friendship is. You may expect these things from them, but you're willing and glad to give them in return. A friend is someone you'll do anything for. You'll even sacrifice your own happiness and well-being for theirs. And each friendship is different, just like each friend is different."

After thinking about this for a while Harry said, "I don't have many friends." At Ron's doubtful snort he explained, "A lot of people might consider me their friend, and they certainly expect me to put my own life aside for theirs, but would any of them do the same for me?"

"I WOULD!" Ron said forcefully.

"We both would," Hermione added.

Harry looked at them for a few seconds and then nodded. "I know you would, and I would do the same for you," he said, not bothering to add the "and probably will," that was lingering at the tip of his tongue. "But I doubt the rest of the wizarding world would oblige. They just want me to be their perfect savoir. None of them really care about who I am." Neither of them knew how to answer Harry. It was true that everyone expected him to save them form Voldemort, but did any of them care about Harry's life?

The three of them sat in silence for a while. The hush was finally broken by Harry who said, "I don't think anyone really knows me," so softly it was almost quieter than the silence of a few seconds before. If there had been a fly buzzing in the room, Ron and Hermione would have missed his avowal.

"Well, you're a private person. We've known you for over six years, and I think today is the first time we've seen you cry," Hermione said.

"Everyone smarms up to me, but how would they take it if they found out anything about the real me, that their perfect idol might not be so perfect?" Harry continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"You mean, like the fact that when you first get up in the morning, your breath smells like you've been licking stinksap off of George's feet after a six hour game of Quidditch?" Ron asked convivially. That had finally done it. The increasingly sour atmosphere vanished in the blink of an eye, and all three friends were smiling.

Harry playfully punched Ron on the arm. "No, I mean the fact that a hero like me would even condescend to be friends with a git like you," he answered, preening himself in a flamboyantly theatrical way. Ron wrapped his arm tightly around Harry's neck and pulled him inward, rubbing his knuckles on Harry's scalp, and doing a good job of ruffling Harry's eternally dishevelled hair even more than usual.

The situation rapidly turned into a wrestling match, and Hermione quickly stood up to get away from the fray. She watched for a few minutes before turning and walking out of the room with a shake of the head, a roll of the eyes, and a smile. If anyone else had been there they would have barely heard her begrudgingly amused outcry of "Boys!" before she shut the door behind her.

End Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 3

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Harry's talk with Ron and Hermione had given him a lot to think about, but mostly it made him really appreciate how wonderful his friends really were. Over the next few weeks he was prone to continued fits of quietness, but they were wholly different than the sullen quietness of the previous weeks. The difference was palpable, and Ron and Hermione sensed that he was well again.

Harry was deep in thought. Everything he had ever known about Draco had been called into question when Harry had seen him in that corridor. Draco seemed to constantly exude an air of superiority, but that day there appeared to Harry a crack in Draco's seemingly perfect life. It wasn't the fact that his hair was not perfectly set as usual, it wasn't the unfastened robe or presence of muggle clothes, it wasn't his solitude, it wasn't even the pensive look on his face.

Something that went beyond appearance was different about Draco. Harry sensed it then, and he could still feel it when Draco was around. He could feel it, even with his eyes closed. Something was bothering Draco, and Harry was torn between the thought that anything that troubled a known enemy HAD to be good news, and the thought that Draco was no longer an enemy.

As if that weren't enough, Harry had slowly come to the conclusion that he was not as straight as he assumed he was. In fact, he was not straight at all. He had examined his feelings for all of the girls in his life, and discovered that aside from his crush on Cho in fourth year, he did not feel one modicum of attraction or desire for any of them.

He sat quietly in the common room, observing the females of Gryffindor. He watched Parvati pull back her long hair and twist it into a bun at the back of her head. He watched Lavender apply fruity gloss to her full lips. He watched Hermione reading a book with her brow creased. He watched Ginny bending over to pick up a pack of Exploding Snap cards that had fallen off of a table. He noticed that, without his ever noticing, the girls he had known for half of his life had turned into women. They had developed breasts, they had developed soft curves, and as he watched her bending over, he had just noticed that Ginny had begun wearing VERY low rise jeans…

"Ahem," a throat clearing broke him from his reverie. He looked over at Ron, who was looking back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Why, may I ask, are you looking at my little sister's posterior?"

"Oh! I was just…thinking."

"Uh huh, right."

"No, I was thinking about how much we have all grown since we started here. And I can see Ginny's pants."

"Oi, Ginny!"

Harry chuckled to himself as Ron jumped up and approached Ginny to lecture her about her jeans. As he looked around at all of the breasts and curvy bums around him, Harry realised that they did not seem to attract him or excite him the way they did Ron. Ron was always going on about Hermione's bum, and as Harry snuck a glance at it, he felt nothing.

He looked over at Ron who was gesturing to Ginny almost melodramatically. He noticed the way Ron's arms had filled out so that the sleeves of his ringer tee clung to him to show the movement of the muscles beneath. He noticed many muscles that Ron didn't have when they were eleven. Harry chalked this up to the hours of Quidditch practice Ron had been engaging in since fifth year. Harry noticed the little bit of shadow that was popping up on Ron's jaw since his shave that morning. As Ron was gesturing to the Prefect's badge on his chest Harry noticed that Ron had quite a nice backside…

"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry did not just get an erection looking at Ron's bum. No, it was all this thinking about bodies and puberty…

"The nerve of her! And when did she get a THONG? Honestly!"

Harry sprang up so fast as Ron plopped down next to him that you would have thought the sofa was a teeter-totter. "I've got to go to the toilet!"

"Ummm, okay..." Ron sounded slightly confused.

Harry scrambled up to the seventh years' toilet just across from the dormitories. Slamming the door behind him, he leaned against the sink, breathing heavy. Harry couldn't be attracted to Ron, no way. He tried to imagine kissing Ron and felt a surge of relief as his growing erection faltered. He didn't think of Ron that way; Ron was like a brother to him. Harry sat on the toilet and tried to catch his breath. Sure, Ron may have a nicely muscled body, but as Harry thought of doing anything even slightly sexual with him, he lost his erection completely.

When his breathing came back to normal, Harry decided to take a shower. After collecting his supplies from his room he entered the baths next to the seventh year toilets. He chose a stall in the back and began to strip off his uniform, thinking about what had just happened in the common room.

Now that he had some semblance of rational thought back he could see that the whole thing WAS innocent. He had been trying to examine his sexual feelings, and when he had come to the realisation that soft, round and bouncy was not what interested him, he had merely considered the alternative. With relief Harry found that he could now think about Ron with not one physical reaction. The reaction must have just been to the realization that what excited Harry was strength, firm muscles, and oddly enough, five o'clock shadow.

As Harry lathered himself he reached up to feel his own jaw. He hadn't shaved since this morning either, and his jaw was rough with nearly twelve hours' worth of stubble. He imagined what a rough jaw like that would feel like against his cheek, against his chest, against his stomach, against his growing erection.

Harry imagined what it would feel like to wrestle on a bed with a firm body, feeling the weight on top, then underneath, as taut muscles entwined. He imagined the low masculine grunting and hot breath in his ear as strong hands wrapped around his hips, pulling his body back into a well-muscled chest, glistening with sweat. Strong arms enfolding him from behind, reaching around to do what his own hand was doing in the downpour of the warm water…

-o-o-o-o-

Harry finished his shower and pulled on a pair of pyjamas. Heading over to his dormitory, he thought about today's revelations. The fact that he was gay didn't bother him at all, but he worried about how his friends would react if they ever found out, sure they were supportive, and would do anything for him, but this wasn't exactly normal, was it? Harry though back to their impromptu intervention from before, and found some confidence that they would be his friends, no matter what.

He was about to turn in when Ron entered the room.

"Just got back from the owlery. HAD to tell mum about those jeans, and that thong. No sister of mine is going to parade around here looking like a…Harry, you okay?"

Harry couldn't stop grinning. "Yeh, I'm fine. You're a great friend, you know, and a great brother."

"Yeah, well…" Ron made his way over to his own bed, trying, but failing to hide his red cheeks.

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 4

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

"Oi, what's the matter, mate? You look like you just got over a month long bout of dragon fever!"

Ron and Hermione budged aside to make room for a very rough looking Harry between them at the breakfast table.

"It's nothing," the baggy eyed boy answered before stifling a yawn. "I've been having…weird dreams. I just haven't gotten much sleep."

Harry had been having weird dreams. Almost every night for the past few weeks he had been visited in his dreams by a faceless man with grey eyes. Those grey eyes would draw Harry in, and Harry would reach out to the man. Enclosed in the man's warm embrace, Harry would feel content, but then a hissing sound would rattle the air whilst a cloud of mist would envelop the grey-eyed man, pulling him away from Harry. Harry would try to reach up to him, but upon looking down he would find that he had no arms. This is when he would wake up, covered in sweat.

The real problem was that Harry didn't want to go back to sleep on nights like this, because though he longed to feel the touch of the grey-eyed man again, he couldn't bear to see the man torn away from him over and over.

"Have something to eat, Harry; you look dead on your feet." Hermione pulled a plate of sausages toward him. When he stared glassily at them without moving she decided to pile a bunch on his plate, along with some toast. "Why don't you go ask Madam Pomfrey for some dreamless sleep potion, loosing this much sleep can't be good for you."

"Yeh, good idea, Hermione. I'll go see her. I'm not very hungry anyway," Harry responded in a monotone as he stood up to go see the nurse. Leaving a concerned looking Ron and Hermione in his wake, he stumbled out of the great hall, only to run smack-dab into…

"AAhhh! Oh! Mr. Potter, it's you, as I knew it would be." Trelawney looked like she had nearly jumped out of her bangles when Harry crashed into her. She took a moment to re arrange herself before finally taking a good look at the boy.

"Sorry, professor, I'm just on my way to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Of course! I did sense that you were ill…"

"No, I just need a bit of dreamless sleep potion…" Harry regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

"Dreamless sleep? Have visions been plaguing you in the night, Mr. Potter? Of course they have, I could sense it. If you need any help to interpret the sights and sound that the universe has seen fit to send your way…"

"Thank you, professor, but I really must get going."

"Of course, dear boy, and beware the…" She hollered the last words at his rapidly retreating back, before he ducked behind a tapestry hiding a short cut to the hospital wing. Slowing his pace, he went back to thinking about his dream. He couldn't understand why he kept having it, and since the dreams started he couldn't help but shake the feeling that he had seen those grey eyes before…

-o-o-o-o-

After collecting a few doses of dreamless sleep potion from Madam Pomfrey, Harry made his way to his first class, double potions with the Slytherins. Harry knew that most of the school would still be at breakfast, so he was looking forward to some quiet time in the halls to try to fend off what he could feel was a rapidly approaching headache. As he reached the hall outside the potions room, he heard voices from within. It was Draco and Snape.

"But sir, this must be brought to Dumbledore at once! He's planning something, here at Hogwarts! Dumbledore must…" Draco sounded urgent.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you forgot who you are speaking with? I assure you that I am privy to every…"

"No, this is something that he hasn't told anyone about, he…"

"Then how, I wonder, do YOU know about it?"

"He, that is, I…I've been having…"

"Hey Harry! You're here early." Seamus, his usual boisterous self, had come up behind Harry and clapped him on the back. His voice must have carried into the class, because there was no more noise coming from within.

Harry flapped his arms and tried to gesture for Seamus to be quiet, but it was too late, Snape was opening the door, his usual stern expression on his face.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Finnegan. Decided to come in to potions early today? Are you turning over a new leaf and actually taking an interest in developing your skills, or have you just lost your way to the toilets?" Snape didn't wait for an answer; he merely stood aside and held the door open for his students. Harry entered and looked over to the other side of the room. Draco was sitting at his cauldron, stirring the potion they had been working on all month. As Harry entered Draco looked up and they locked eyes. Draco looked as bad as Harry felt. His typically pale skin was marred by the dark circles under his eyes. Harry felt an inexplicable urge to go over to Draco, and was about to veer in his direction when Ron and Hermione entered the room and steered him over to the potion they had been working on.

"I gathered the pondweed at midnight on the full moon, and I know I helped Ron find the toadstool, did you get the Streeler venom, Harry?" Hermione was already starting the day's work, even though some students were still spilling into the classroom.

"Huh, what?" Harry tore his gaze away from Draco's for the first time since entering the room at Hermione's question. "Yeah, I got it, don't you remember last week when my right hand turned blue for two days?"

"I told you to wear your dragon hide gloves…"

Harry wasn't listening to Hermione, he looked back up at Draco, but Draco was now engaged in conversation with the rest of his potions group.

Professor Snape cleared his throat, and a hush fell almost immediately. Draco glanced up at Harry for a second before they both turned to look at their professor.

"As you recall, this is one of the most complicated potions you will make in your educational career at Hogwarts, and we are coming up on the trickiest week yet, the final week. If your ingredients are collected improperly, or added in the wrong order, they will likely turn this Revealing Potion into a very fast acting poison.

"Add your Streeler venom now, increase the heat and stir vigorously for the next hour to let the poisonous vapours burn off. When your arm tires, hand off to the next group member. Those not currently stirring a potion will cut the pondweed into thin strips, or come to this board and use a silver knife to pierce their toadstool at the centre and squeeze the poison out of the sac.

"At the end of the hour, reduce the heat on the potion and add the pondweed, wait a minute, then each of you will take a bite of the toadstool, and spit it into the cauldron, each stirring the cauldron once, clockwise for females, and contra clockwise for males. Cover the potion immediately. Since the potion must be stirred for five minutes at precisely midnight every night for the next three days, each group member will take turns fulfilling this task. I have spelled the door of this room to allow the passage of only my students during the night. Begin."

Harry added the venom he had collected from a Streeler trail and began to stir the potion, periodically glancing up at Draco. They caught eyes once in a while, but looked away almost immediately. Something was up with Draco, but Harry felt that mentioning it to Ron or Hermione would be a bad idea. The urgency in Draco's voice, and Snape's cool retorts reminded Harry of his own interactions with the potions master in the past. Though he didn't know what the conversation was about, he found himself sympathising with his Slytherin classmate.

After twenty minutes the crick in Harry's elbow gave a particularly painful throb, and he asked Ron to take over the stirring. Hermione was nearly done cutting the pondweed, so Harry grabbed the toadstool and brought it over to the collection board. He picked up the nearest silver dagger and held the toadstool open with his left hand. He was about to stab down into the centre when someone came up to work beside him. Turning he noticed that it was Draco.

"Potter," Draco said in greeting with a nod of his head. Though their animosity had died down since their last confrontation in the hall, this amicable treatment from Draco still surprised Harry.

After recovering from his surprise, Harry nodded back, "Malfoy."

They worked side by side, piercing and squeezing their toadstools. When Harry's toadstool was dry he turned to go back to his group mates, but before he could take a step Draco caught hold of Harry's arm.

"Look, Potter, I…"

"Everything okay, Harry?" Ron had obviously noticed Draco's proximity to Harry. He was still stirring the potion across the room, but looked ready to drop the spoon and charge at Draco if it were required.

Harry nodded and turned back to Draco, but Ron's yelling across the room had drawn a few other's stairs from around the room, and Draco looked as if he had lost his nerve. "I'll see you around."

"Uh, yeh, you too," Harry stammered, trying to not sound too surprised. Harry smiled at Draco to show he was sincere, but the strange circumstances between Harry and Draco of late, on top of the conversation Harry had just overheard, must have confused the signal. Harry's smile came out lopsided, and must have looked quite goofy, because Draco let out a small chuckle before returning his own smile and turning away, leaving a confused Harry standing there holding a de-poisoned toadstool, and a warm feeling is his stomach that didn't come from the cold dungeon.

End Chapter Four


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 5

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

It was the last day of class before Christmas holiday, and if Harry's emotions were a painting, they would be a Picasso. Ron and Hermione were going to visit Hermione's parents during the break. Harry would miss them, but he was also looking forward to spending some quiet time alone. A record number of students were going home for the holiday, and Harry was one of only five Gryffindor students who would be staying at Hogwarts.

What with his newly realized sexuality, the occasional reoccurrence of his troubling dream, and the myriad of thoughts swimming through is mind about Draco, Harry had a lot of things on his mind, and he vowed to himself that he would use the solitude over the holiday to straighten out his thoughts.

The middle of the night on Wednesday Harry received the newest bit of information that was co-mingling with the thoughts in his already jumbled head. Harry was making his way back to Gryffindor tower after taking his turn at midnight potions stirring when he saw Draco in the corridor ahead, hurriedly tiptoeing around the corner. Draco had not been the one stirring his group's potion that night, so he had no business being out of bed at the time. His interest piqued, Harry followed Draco through the halls, keeping his distance, all the way up to the corridor with the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Harry watched as Draco approached the statue guarding the door, spoke the password, and entered.

Harry considered following, but hesitated on the thought of barging into Dumbledore's office in the middle of the night, uninvited. Before he could make a move either way, the decision was taken out of his hands.

"Mr. Potter! What are you doing out of bed at this time?" Professor McGonagall looked livid.

"I was in the dungeons, professor. We're working on Garwyn's Revealing potion this month." Harry hoped that his presence so far away from Gryffindor tower would not rouse her suspicions.

"Oh, yes. Of course, well…off to bed with you now."

"Yes, professor." Harry turned the corner toward Gryffindor, but stopped and listened. The only reason to be in this particular corridor was to go to Dumbledore's office. He listened as McGonagall spoke the password and entered the headmaster's office. Draco and McGonagall were both in Dumbledore's office. Harry wondered if this was by accident or design.

Harry returned quickly to his dormitory, and pulled the Marauder's map out of his trunk. He activated it and scanned it for Dumbledore's office. In it were the dots of Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy and Minerva McGonagall, and just as he watched, the dot of Severus Snape made its way down the corridor outside and joined the other three.

-o-o-o-o-

"Bye, guys. See you in a few weeks." Harry smiled and waved as Hermione and Ron walked arm-in-arm toward Hogsmeade Station, Ron floating their luggage in front of them. Harry mused to himself at what an adorable couple they made. He waited until they were out of sight before heading back into the castle, and up to his dormitory.

He couldn't get the midnight meeting in the head's office out of his mind. What reason could all of them have had for being there, and at such a late hour? A slight panicky feeling filled Harry as he thought back to the overheard argument between Draco and Snape. His scar had not hurt in a while, so he had assumed that Voldemort wasn't up to anything, but now he realized how unwise this assumption had been. How likely was it that the most evil wizard in a hundred years would just take a holiday from his plans for world domination? Not very, Harry thought to himself.

Harry decided that he had to go see Dumbledore. He made his way to the right corridor, and spoke the same password that Draco and McGonagall had used. The statue leapt aside and Harry climbed up to the head's office. At Dumbledore's invitation, Harry came in and before the headmaster could offer a greeting Harry was already midway through his panicked inquiry.

"Sir, is Voldemort planning an attack? When's it going to happen? Where? Are we prepared to…"

"My dear boy, what makes you think Voldemort is planning an attack?"

"Well, sir, He's Voldemort. He's evil."

With a smile, Dumbledore concurred, "Too true, it would be illogical to assume he is NOT planning an attack. What I meant was, have you come upon any information you feel relevant to this topic? Has your scar, perhaps, been bothering you?"

"Oh, no. In fact, not at all. The last time it hurt was right before he attacked the ministry last year."

"Ah, yes. Your early warning saved many lives that day Harry. I assumed Voldemort would have found out why we were ready for his attack by now, and that is why your scar has not been hurting. He has closed that particular connection between you. But why, then, this sudden urgency?"

"Oh, well, uhh…I inadvertently overheard something. Uhh, something between Malfoy and Snape."

"Ah, yes. Well PROFESSOR Snape has informed me of this, it is nothing for you to worry about."

"Yes, professor, but as you said, Voldemort probably IS planning something, shouldn't we…"

"I assure you, our intelligence has been working as diligently as ever, and uncovered much information. We are not as ill-informed as you think us, Harry."

Harry stopped himself before mentioning the midnight meeting. There was more to this than Dumbledore was letting on, but Harry could tell that Dumbledore was not about to tell him about it. After hesitating for a few moments, Harry nodded. He didn't quite know what to do with himself. Perhaps the midnight meeting and the argument between Snape and Draco had nothing to do with Voldemort, perhaps it was none of his business, and he should leave it alone.

Taking pity on the obviously conflicted boy, Dumbledore offered, "Why don't you accompany me down to lunch? As I was walking by the kitchens this morning I smelled the most heavenly roast, and am particularly eager to sink my teeth into it."

Harry tried to smile, but couldn't. He merely let himself be steered out of Dumbledore's office and down to the great hall. Once inside, Harry started to make his way over to the Gryffindor table, but stopped in his tracks when he saw that Draco was sitting over on the Slytherin side. Draco had put his name on the list to go home for the holidays ages ago, why was he here now? Harry continued to his own table and put a bit of the roast onto his plate, along with potatoes and honey-glazed carrots. Harry ate, looking up at Draco periodically.

When Draco rose from his table a few minutes later and left the great hall, Harry made up his mind. Though half his food was still on his plate, Harry rose and followed Draco out. By the time Harry had made his way out, Draco was almost across the hall and to the dungeons. Harry called out, "Malfoy, wait!" Draco stopped, and with relief, Harry jogged across the hall to catch up with him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I have just as much right to be here as you do, Potter." Draco was already on the defensive, and Harry needed to dispel it quick.

"No, I mean, don't you always go on about how lavish Christmas is at your parent's house, and how much you look forward to it? Why would you want to stay here instead?"

Draco looked sad for a moment. Harry almost thought he had blown his chance to speak to Draco when Draco answered, "I can't go back this year, I just…I can't go back."

"Why can't you go back?"

"Merlin, Potter, are you always this nosey?" Draco was getting defensive again and Harry didn't know what to do. Draco had turned to go when Harry blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"WannaplayagameoQuidditch?"

By the look on Draco's face, he had surprised Draco just as much as he had surprised himself. Harry held his breath, not knowing what to expect. But to his surprise, a small smile graced Draco's face before he nodded and said, "Meet you on the pitch in ten minutes."

Harry ran up to his dorm and dressed for a winter game of Quidditch as quickly as possible. He stopped to look at his reflection in the mirror, quickly trying to make his hair lay flat, before running back down and out to the Quidditch pitch.

Draco was already out, flying warm-up laps around the pitch. Harry straddled his broom, but did not kick off. He hadn't had much chance to watch Draco fly, and he had to admit that Draco was quite good. His movements were fluid and steady, and his speed was excellent.

"Like what you see, Potter?" Draco began making his way back to the ground beside Harry, and didn't miss the blush that Harry was not quite successful in hiding. Quirking an eyebrow, Draco recognized an opportunity when he saw one. "Couldn't wait to feel some hard wood between your legs again, I see. Perhaps I could help you with that later…"

Harry's physical response surprised Draco. His eyes dilated, despite the bright sun reflecting off of the white snow all around them. His breathing hitched, and his lips reddened slightly. Draco had never considered the fact that the famous Harry potter could be anything other than as straight as an arrow, but judging by the bulge that Draco observed growing in Harry's trousers, Draco might have to re-evaluate his assumptions.

"…but for now, you Keep for me. I'll go grab a Quaffle." Draco pretended not to notice Harry's predicament and walked off to the broom shed, delaying long enough for Harry to adjust anything that needed adjusting. When Harry had flown up to hover in front of the hoops, Draco joined him in the sky.

Draco played as Chaser while Harry attempted to block his goals. Draco was landing over half of his attempts, which he was quick to point out to the Gryffindor.

"Yeah, well, I'm a Seeker, aren't I?" Harry retorted, slightly annoyed.

"Have you forgotten that I'm one too?" Draco grinned right back at the other boy.

After a half hour they switched and Draco seemed to me a more effective Keeper than Harry was. When a gust of cold wind swept the pitch the boys were reminded that they were chilled to the bone, so they decided to pack up. They headed over to the broom shed together.

"Wow, you are an abysmal Keeper, Potter. You make Weasley look like a pro."

"Well, I'm still a better Seeker than you."

Both boys laughed as they opened the shed. They put their brooms away and Draco took out the bag that held the practice balls. As Draco stuffed the practice Quaffle in the bag, while trying to prevent the escape of the practice Bludgers, Harry noticed something.

"What's that on your arm?"

Draco quickly pulled his sleeve down, and tried to deny it, but Harry was too fast for him. He shot out his hand and wrapped it around Draco's wrist. With his other hand he pulled Draco's sleeve up. What he saw made his stomach drop. He released Draco's arm like it had electrocuted him, and backed up, wide-eyed, toward the door. When his back collided with the door jam he opened it and turned to run back up to the castle.

Never before had the sight of the Dark Mark filled Harry with so much anger, sadness, fear and confusion.

End Chapter Five


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 6

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

"Potter, wait!"

Harry heard the other boy calling, but continued to sprint through the snow drifts up toward the castle.

"Potter! Harry! Aaaauuuuuuhhh…"

If it was the sound of his given name that stopped Harry's progress toward the castle, it was the scream that made him turn around. Draco had tried to follow Harry, but he was now curled up, face down in the snow. He continued to scream and writhe as if under Crucio.

Harry was torn. His baser instincts told him that he should get away from anyone bearing the Dark Mark as quickly as possible, but his innate Gryffindor self knew that he must help someone in need. He approached Draco slowly. His face was red and contorted with pain, and he was cradling his marked arm. Harry pulled the arm out of the boy's grasp and saw the mark again. It was pulsing, and for a moment Harry thought that Voldemort might be calling to his followers, but there was something else going on there as well. Some of the lines were going fuzzy around the edges, and some seemed to be vibrating on the skin itself. Without stopping to consider his impulse, Harry reached out and placed a finger on the mark, just as he had seen Voldemort do to Pettigrew in the past.

Draco let out a piercing scream, then lost consciousness. For seconds, Harry merely sat there. His hand clamped tightly around Draco's forearm, covering the mark with his palm, his mind racing with thoughts. Once he had collected his wits, Harry floated Draco's unconscious body up to the castle, and toward the hospital wing.

As soon as he entered the wing with the other boy, Harry was shooed out by Madam Pomfrey. He paced the halls just outside, going over everything that had happened. The appearance of the Dark Mark had shocked Harry, but he was beating himself up about it now. Of course Draco would become a death eater, look at his father. Even though Harry repeated it to himself over and over, it still didn't seem right. He was confused. He wanted to go to somebody, to Dumbledore, hell, even to Snape. Someone who could help him shed light on what was happening. But he didn't want to leave Draco. He was concerned, and even the presence of the mark didn't change the fact that Harry felt oddly drawn to Draco these past few months. As long as Draco's condition was up in the air, Harry would stay outside these doors. He would sleep here if he had to.

As if on cue, Dumbledore and Snape appeared in the hall, rushing into the hospital wing. Harry hesitated, but the thought that Draco was in trouble finally pushed him to enter the room.

"Mr. Potter, I told you to leave, I have Mr. Malfoy now."

"What is HE doing here?" Snape sounded annoyed, and something else Harry couldn't identify.

"Mr. Potter brought Mr. Malfoy in."

"What happened, Harry?" It was not Snape, but Dumbledore who spoke.

"We were playing Quidditch, Sir." At this, Snape's head shot up to look at Harry, but he kept silent. "Malfoy collapsed; he was acting like his arm hurt. I tried to help…Sir, he has the Dark Mark."

Snape and Dumbledore both turned away to look at Draco's arm. They pulled back his sleeve, and gazed down at it for a long moment.

"What happened to it?" Snape was thunderstruck.

"Harry, would you come take a look at this, please?" Dumbledore stepped aside to allow space by the side of Draco's bed between himself and Snape. Harry walked up and looked down at Draco's arm. A mark was still there, but it wasn't the Dark Mark. It looked like a tattoo of a snake and a phoenix, twisted together in an endless Celtic knot. Astounded, Harry looked up at Dumbledore and Snape.

"It WAS the Dark Mark, sir. I saw it."

"We know about the Dark Mark, Harry. We've known since it was forced upon him." Dumbledore looked serious.

"Forced upon him…?"

"The Dark Mark is supposed to be permanent, nothing but the death of The Dark Lord can affect it." Snape finished speaking, and pulled up his own sleeve. The hopeful look on his face died away instantly when he saw his own mark, unchanged.

"Yes, Severus, but we already know that young Draco's marking did not go as planned."

"Unwillingness has nothing to do with it, Albus. I've seen many marked against their will."

"Well, perhaps we now know why this marking was different…" Dumbledore and Snape broke their gaze, both looking down at Harry.

Harry was totally confused, but before he could think of something to say, Snape interrupted his thoughts.

"No, I refuse to believe this. How would it even be possible? Even if they are…"

"Severus, if this is the case, you know your wishes will have no effect on the situation." Dumbledore sounded pleased with himself. "I assure you, we will try to get to the bottom of this, but for now, could you consider the possibility that this might just be a good thing?"

Snape glared down at Harry for a moment, before turning and stalking out of the hospital wing. Harry turned back, with a confused look on his face, to look at Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiled down at him, before grabbing a nearby chair and offering it to Harry. Harry sat and watched as Dumbledore went to the other side of the bed, and magically drew himself a chair to sit in.

"So, Harry, how have you and Draco been doing?"

"Uhh, well, I've been okay, I guess. Malfoy has seemed…Is he going to be okay?"

"Ah, yes. It seems that whatever caused the change in his mark put his system through quite a shock, he is just catching up on some sleep to help him recover." Dumbledore looked at Harry over his spectacles, and Harry got the feeling that Dumbledore was reading his mind. "What happened out on the pitch today, Harry?"

'Well, we were playing quidditch, like I said. When we were packing up I noticed his mark, well, I didn't know it was THE Mark, I just saw something. He tried to hide it, but I saw what it was. I was freaked out, umm, I've been, well he...I ran away, but then he sort of collapsed. He looked like he was in pain. I tried to help him, I saw the mark and, well…I touched it. That's when he…"

"Then what did you do, Harry?"

"Well, I was in shock. That was a lot of information to take in all at once. I, well…I guess I just sat there for a bit."

"Did you use your wand on him?"

"No sir, I didn't do any magic. I was just sitting there with him."

"What were your thoughts at the time?"

"I, I really don't know. I was confused. Something has changed between us, lately. I was nearly knocked sideways when I saw that mark. I was…It was almost…I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest." Harry blushed a bit, but his eyes fixed on Dumbledore did not falter. "Was it really forced upon him?"

"Yes, Harry. His father promised him to Voldemort, Draco had no choice. But the marking did not go quite as planned." Dumbledore looked on Harry for a second, seemingly making up his mind. "What Draco experienced during the marking was not a reaction we've seen before. The mark went on, and neither Voldemort, nor any of the Death Eaters, knew that anything was amiss. Draco reported his experience to Professor Snape and myself at once upon his return. Since then, the mark has not been behaving like a typical Dark Mark."

"Not been behaving…?"

"Well, for one, it doesn't alert Draco when Voldemort is in need of a hand. Professor Snape's has glowed a few times since Draco's marking, but, until today, Draco's has showed no sign of any life.

"Then, of course, is the fact that once Voldemort marks someone, the mark is permanent. There is not a spell or potion known that can break the dark traces in the mark. Professor Snape is correct in that."

"Why was he looking at me like I did something wrong? I didn't change the mark."

"Actually, Harry, I believe you did."

End Chapter Six


	7. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 7

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Harry was flabbergasted. Not knowing what to do or say, he merely looked down at Draco. He tried to assimilate all he had heard with his already complicated thoughts about the Slytherin. He had forgotten Dumbledore was there until the man cleared his throat. Harry looked up to see the older wizard scrutinizing him.

"I don't think I did, sir. I mean, if it's not even possible… how could I do it without knowing it?"

"Harry, this isn't the first time you have confounded Voldemort in his proceedings; doing something that had never been done, no less. Have you forgotten that you are still the only person to ever survive a killing curse?"

"That wasn't me. If my mother hadn't…" Harry trailed off, lost in his own thoughts. The killing curse had failed because of his mother's love for him. It was a protection given to him, not a conscious act on his part to fight off the curse. Her love had merely acted as a shield. Shielding is a passive thing, very different than affecting changes in the environment or in others, which implies action, or at least thought.

Harry realized that he had been staring glassily at nothing in particular for some time. He looked up at Dumbledore, still not knowing what to say.

-o-o-o-o-

Draco woke panicked and confused. The room around him wasn't his dormitory, he could tell by the moonlight spilling through the window. That was the drawback to living in the dungeons, no windows. There was a torch on the wall, and along with the moon it illuminated the room just enough to clue Draco in on where he was.

When he recognized it as the hospital wing, his memory came flooding back to him. He had played quidditch with Harry. Harry had seen The Dark Mark. The look on Harry's face when he saw what it was would be permanently seared into Draco's mind. The fear, the hurt, the confusion; Draco understood it all too well.

He had tried to stop Harry from running away, even if he had no way to explain everything. When he tried to run after Harry, a pain in his chest brought him to his knees. The mark blazed on his arm as if he were being branded. His whole body burned, and then there was nothing.

Draco was so filled with shame he felt like he was drowning. He knew the marking was not his fault, but still he felt shame. He hated the fact that he had caused Harry more pain, Harry had had enough of that in his life, and now Draco knew all about it.

He had always wondered why everyone thought Harry was so special. He had never seen Harry as anything but the cocky Gryffindor mascot who pranced around enjoying everyone's admiration served to him on a silver platter. Whose life was easy because he was everyone's favourite 'hero' who could do whatever he wanted and no one would dare speak against him.

But now Draco had had the chance to see Harry through another person's eyes, and every myth and misconception he had entertained about the Gryffindor had shattered into pieces at Draco's feet. When you see Harry Potter through the eyes of Lord Voldemort, your whole world is likely to change.

-o-o-o-o-

_After he had arrived at Malfoy Manor he had been informed that he was meeting with Voldemort to take on The Dark Mark and join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Though Draco was fiercely proud of his heritage and family history, he had never really personally subscribed to his father's ideals. Parrotin__g his father's teachings about Mudbloods was one thing, but actually killing someone…_

_When Draco tried to voice his objection to the marking, his father silenced him. That was when his mother had stepped in. Draco had heard of some of the things his father had supposedly done on Voldemort's orders, but an abstract notion of violence could not compare to the very physical manifestation he witnessed in response to his mother's attempts to protect Draco. The image of his mother magically healing her own broken jaw was the last thing Draco saw before his father grabbed him and apparated him away._

_The reports of his father's activities as a death eater never quite fit in with his image of the man, so Draco had always dismissed them as exaggerations. Draco and Lucius had never been close. If describing their relationship honestly, Draco would have admit that Lucius had always felt more like an overseer or administrator than a father or role model. Still, the fact that he could so blatantly harm his own wife, the one person Draco loved, split Draco's world in two._

_They arrived outside a worn castle, and Draco was too stunned to do anything but stand there. He felt his father place the imperious curse on him, but none of the light happiness he had experienced when the fake Moody had put them all under it in fourth year had clouded his mind. Even as his body gave in to his father's commands, his mind and soul felt nothing but pain, pain over his shattered image of his father, pain because of his empathy toward his mother, pain over the fact that his father would think so little of him as to give him blindly over to a Dark Wizard without a modicum of hesitation, almost joyfully._

_His consciousness was brought along for the ride, but like a satellite orbiting the earth, he felt detached from everything that was going on. Playing the marionette to Lucius's puppet master, his body did as directed but his mind was lost in pain. He was vaguely aware of his body completing a chant, and drinking from a goblet full of blood, but he experienced these things as if looking down from above through a heavy fog, not as a participant._

_He sensed that Voldemort was pointing a wand at his body, and then his awareness was filled with a flash of pure white light. He saw images and scenes, he felt emotions, he thought thoughts, none of which were his own. They belonged to Voldemort. As the light faded Draco had found himself bowing before Voldemort. He looked down and saw The Dark Mark on his arm. Was that what was supposed to happen? He looked up and saw that Voldemort was looking down at him, a satisfied expression on his face. Death eaters surrounded him, slapping him on the back and offering congratulations. He turned to go and made eye contact with his father, who nodded at him. He walked past the man without acknowledgement and left._

_Once out of range of the shield charms, Draco apparated randomly with no real destination in mind. He was therefore surprised to find himself in Hogsmeade. He let his feet take him where they pleased, not stopping until he found himself inside Hogwarts castle, in front of the door to the headmaster's office._

_He had hesitated for only a minute, not knowing what he was going to say. It was Dumbledore's parting words of only a few hours earlier, his offer that his door was always open, that had given Draco the nerve he needed to knock._

_He had gone in and explained everything, shaking the whole time. Reliving it all, he had been surprised to find himself crying. Dumbledore's reaction had surprised him even more, as he rose from the big chair behind his desk and placed a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder._

_The scenes and thoughts that had filled his mind during the marking reformulated, and Draco divulged all he had seen. He told of his servant, Severus Snape, bringing him information about a prophecy. He told of visiting a house in the middle of the night to kill the subject of the prophecy, but failing. He told of attempting to steal the stone, and the young boy's thwarting of his attempts. He told of the graveyard, and the way the boy had fought and escaped. He told of a trap to get the boy into the department of mysteries, and the fight that had ensued. He told of his latest attempt to take over the ministry, and how the boy had again fought, always frustrating his plans at every turn. All this he told as if from Voldemort's point of view, which did not seem to disturb Dumbledore as much as it did Draco. Finally, with the big picture put together as it was, Draco was filled with nothing but questions._

_Though some of what he had seen seemed to coincide with reported accounts of certain events, he didn't really know what to think. After explaining everything he had seen to Dumbledore, he had to ask the question, "Do you think all of these things were real?"_

"_I believe you gained access to some of Lord Voldemort's memories."_

"_How," Draco asked, and before Dumbledore had a chance to put forth a hypothesis, Draco added, "and why did they all have to do with Potter?"_

"_THAT," Dumbledore said with authority, gazing over his spectacles at the Slytherin, "is an excellent question."_

_After repeated meetings with his head of house and the headmaster, they had come to the conclusion that Draco's Dark Mark was anything but typical. Unfortunately, though it did not perform its intended function of alerting him when Voldemort called, it did still resist any attempt to alter or remove it. Draco didn't feel like a death ea__ter, but it was hard to ignore the Mark when Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall, three of the most powerful and talented witches and wizards of the age, could do nothing to remove it._

_Draco was surprised that the most life altering effect of his meeting with the dark lord was not his coming away with a permanent mark of evil upon his body, but the __insight he had received about Harry Potter. After that day, his whole life and everything he thought had undergone a frame-shift, and had to be re-evaluated. He had once thought Harry was a nuisance and an annoyance, but now he saw what made Harry so special in everyone's eyes, and so important to them all._

_Dumbledore had refused to elaborate on the memory Draco had experienced about the prophecy, but from the fear he felt when reliving it, and the fear he felt in each of the subsequent encounters with Harry he was forced to relive, Draco could ascertain the gist of it._

_Also from his forced reliving of Voldemort's fights with Harry, Draco finally got a full sense of Harry's power. Draco ha__d always wondered why Voldemort seemed to take such priority in focusing on Harry when powerful wizards like Dumbledore were on his tail. Now Draco knew. When he relived the scene in the graveyard, and his wand connected with Harry's, he could feel that Harry was a singularly powerful wizard, and despite Dumbledore's obvious fondness for the boy, Draco suspected that only Voldemort and himself were privy to the true potential strength that Harry possessed. Again in his reliving of the events that occurred in the ministry at the end of sixth year, Draco felt Harry's strength. The Strength he had felt during his run-in with Harry in the hallway right before he had been given The Mark did not come close to revealing even a fraction of what Harry had inside._

_Draco gained a new sense of respect for Harry, and once his misconceptions about the Gryffindor were out of the way, Draco came to appreciate other qualities the Gryffindor possessed. He had magical strength, of course, but there was more to it than that. The outwardly priggish "Gryffindor mentality" that Potter seemed to exude, when you knew how to see through your own false assumptions, could be properly identified as strength of character. If Draco had taken the time to seriously evaluate his changing feelings toward Harry, he would have noted his growing appreciation for Harry's sarcastic wit, charmingly good looks, and a certain charisma that had once annoyed the stuffing out of Draco, but now left him feeling warm and tingly whenever the Gryffindor was around._

_Draco had shared some of his thoughts about his classmate with Dumbledore on many occasions, and though the head spoke rarely on the subject, and was careful not to give too much away, his receptiveness was helpful. More than that of Severus, who would bristle and become moody when the Gryffindor was mentioned. Draco found that Dumbledore acted as a good bouncing board when Draco felt confused about his changing feelings toward Harry. Mostly, he liked that Dumbledore didn't complain if he dwelled on the subject too often or too long. On the contrary, the headmaster simply seemed to be amused by Draco's penchant for the subject of Harry Potter._

_On one occasion Draco had ended one of their conversations with the ambiguous declaration, "There's something about Harry."_

"_There is," Dumbledore replied, looking delightedly over his spectacles at Draco, "isn't there?"_

-o-o-o-o-

Draco looked down at the mark on his arm. In the low light of the hospital wing at night, he could only see vague dark lines against his pale skin. If only he could live permanently in low light, people would never see that he was marked by evil. Draco only felt regret that Harry had already seen the mark.

End Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 8

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you're awake." Madam Pomfrey entered and proceeded to bustle about him.

"What happened?"

"Your system has been through quite a shock."

It was the medical personnel's typical non-answer answer, but Draco just didn't have the energy to try to get any more information out of the Healer. The sun was rising, and the torch light slowly died as its rays filled the windows. Draco could see now that he was the only patient in the ward, though this didn't surprise him. Few students had stayed behind for the holidays, in fact, were it not for his own decision to stay behind, the Slytherin dorms would be completely empty.

Madam Pomfrey handed him a potion and told him to drink it, fiddling with his sheets while waiting for him to finish. When he did she collected the cup and bustled away. Draco was tempted to ask if he could leave. He wanted to hide himself away in his common room until the holidays ended. The question died in his throat as Harry entered the room and Draco lost all ability to think. Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey hopefully, and she answered his question before he had a chance to ask it. "It's fine, Mr. Potter. You can come in now." The Healer sounded slightly exasperated, and Draco wondered why. Harry then turned to approach Draco, but stopped in his tracks when he saw that Draco was awake.

For a second Draco thought he might turn and leave, but after a brief hesitation he continued on his way to the side of Draco's bed. A feeling of tension between them increased as Harry got nearer. Draco shifted his body, slipping his forearm under the covers as if hiding it from the world would also erase the memory of the mark from Harry's mind.

"How are you doing?" Harry asked.

Draco tried to hide his discomfort, but the crack in his voice gave the game away as he answered, "I'm fine, though I don't know what exactly happened."

Harry didn't know how to respond. He looked around at everything except Draco, while Draco looked at everything except Harry. They glanced at each other periodically, but tried not to get caught in the act. There was so much that each of them wanted to say, but neither of them could get anything out. Luckily Dumbledore walked in, and Harry and Draco both felt a surge of gratitude for the man who seemed to have an uncanny knack for always being exactly where he was most needed at the time.

"Ah, Draco, Harry! Nice to see you both." The two boys greeted the headmaster warmly, then glanced at each other shortly before focusing their gaze down at their own hands. Their stolen glances were not lost on Dumbledore, who chuckled to himself that he was ever so young. "I trust that you are well, Draco, and that there is no residual pain in your arm."

"Yes, I mean no, I mean…What happened, sir?"

"The incident two days ago between Harry and yourself seemed to have…"

"Two days ago?" Had it really been two days?

"Yes, you have been sleeping for a while. It seems the change in the mark did a real number on your system. And Poppy tells me she has had to put up quite a fight in trying to keep our Mr. Potter away." Dumbledore looked at Harry, his attempted stern look marred by the presence of a slight grin, which made Harry blush.

"Change in the…" Draco pulled his arm out from under the sheet, despite himself. He was speechless, and could only stare at it, periodically looking up at Harry with eyes wide as saucers. This only made Harry blush more. Dumbledore found the whole interaction quite adorable.

"Which brings up the question of why the marking did not go as intended in the first place, and why the mark would not change until Mr. Potter got his hands on it." Dumbledore mused to himself the incredibleness of the fact that both boy's hearts could continue to beat when such a high volume of their blood currently resided in their faces.

"I still don't think I did anything, sir. I mean, the mark was already faulty before I came along," Harry tried to explain.

"And even though it didn't work, every potion, hex, curse, charm, and transfiguration spell we've tried couldn't so much as turn it pink," Draco finished the thought.

"These are all good points. It seems we have a mystery on our hands!" The man sounded delighted beyond belief. Harry and Draco looked at each other incredulously. "We must put our heads together to fully understand what has happened here, but sadly, I must go. I will give Poppy your release orders, and then I suggest Mr. Potter accompany Mr. Malfoy down to the kitchens. You must be famished."

The headmaster buzzed away merrily. Draco and Harry shared a laugh before realising that they were on their own again. Draco refused to let the tension rebuild between them. He sensed that Harry had something to do with the changing of the mark, despite the objections of the other boy, and he thought that it might mean something important. He tried to think of anything to say, just to dispel their discomfort.

"How are we supposed to know where the kitchens are?" Draco was grabbing at straws.

"I know," Harry seized on the opportunity to talk. "I've been there loads of times."

Madam Pomfrey came back, bringing the clothes Draco had been wearing two days ago with her. She handed them to the boy and pulled the curtain out for Draco to change behind. Harry waited on the other side of the curtain while Draco changed, but couldn't help but notice that the dark curtain was just barely sheer enough to show Draco's silhouette through the cloth in the direct rays of the early morning sun. He still felt the burning in his gut when Draco pulled the curtain aside.

"Uhhhemm," Harry cleared his throat croakily, "well, let's go."

Draco looked as nervous as Harry felt. Harry led them out of the hospital wing and toward the kitchens. As they made their way down, Draco felt the need to speak.

"I guess I owe you a thank you."

"Me? For what?"

"Whatever you did to the mark."

"I didn't do anything. Anyway, it wasn't a normal mark, even before I knew it existed. Maybe YOU changed it."

"No, believe me. I tired to get rid of it many times, in many different ways. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, all of us tried."

"So THAT"S what you were doing!"

"What?"

"Oh, erm. I saw you going to Dumbledore's office at midnight, I just wondered…"

"You been following me, Potter?"

"No! No, not at all! I just happened to be…"

"It's okay, Potter. I know I am devilishly handsome. I can't blame you for wanting to take a peek."

Harry was starting to resemble a tomato, but Draco was having too much fun to stop. "Judging by the colour of your cheeks, I've hit a nerve."

"No! You haven't hit a nerve. There is no nerve. This is the way my cheeks always look."

"Harry, I could toast a marshmallow in the heat coming off of you."

The use of his given name caused a jolt to go through Harry's system, and his stride faltered. He tripped over his own foot, and despite efforts to regain his footing, he found himself sitting on the floor, Draco towering above him laughing. "Honestly, good thing for you you're better on a broom than you are on your feet," Draco chuckled as he reached a hand out to help Harry back to his feet.

Though slightly embarrassed about his clumsiness, and the mad blush that now seemed a permanent fixture on his face whenever Draco was around, Harry mostly hoped that he would hear his given name spoken by Draco more often. Harry grabbed hold of the offered hand, adding, "Yes, pitty for you though."

With a mock exasperated breath of protest, Draco pretended to let go of Harry, almost letting him fall back on his bum. In a fray of movement, Harry grabbed onto the offered arm with his other hand as well, shifting their positions slightly and nearly knocking Draco off balance in the process of keeping himself up. They both held on, in an attempt to prevent either of them falling again, which forced them into a semi-awkward embrace. The unexpected sudden closeness caught both boys off guard, but the fact that neither seemed in a big hurry to physically separate was not lost on either of them.

"Uh, well, here we are," Harry finally burst the silence.

"What?"

Harry pointed to the wall behind Draco, on which hung a painting of a bowl of fruit. It seemed to be taking Draco a while to register where they were and what they had been doing, so Harry reached passed him to tickled the pear and open the kitchens. Misinterpreting Harry's movement toward him, Draco grasped Harry's upper arms, pulling him closer. The unexpected move from Draco knocked all thought from Harry's mind and, seemingly, all breath from his lungs. He instead focused his gaze on Draco's lips, which were parting ever so slightly as he pulled the Gryffindor closer. He licked his own lips in anticipation.

"Harry, breath," Draco said, his own voice a breathless whisper as well.

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his face, and his breath came back to him in deep, heavy pants. He locked eyes with Draco, his whole body aching for contact. 'Those eyes,' he thought to himself, 'Those grey eyes, so familiar.' He snaked his arms around Draco's back, preparing to pull their bodies closer together. He leaned closer, and the last thing he saw before closing his eyes were Draco's own eyes fluttering shut.

Both boys leaned in closer still, ready to dive into the deep end when Draco felt a soft thump and push on his lower back, pushing him harder into Harry. The sudden brush of one stiffening body part against another through the fabric of their clothes caused both boys' eyes to snap open. They stared lustily at each other until a scrambling noise behind Draco interrupted the moment.

Harry looked over Draco's shoulder to determine the source of the commotion. There, on the floor just outside the opened painting to the kitchens, lay a mess of woollen tea cosies. And right in the middle of the pile lay…

"Sorry, sirs! Dobby did not see..."

"Good morning Dobby, how are you doing today?"

"Harry Potter! I is doing quite well. How is you doing today?"

As Harry answered, "I'm doing great, Dobby," Draco spun around and took a step back. At the look on his face as he took in the sight before him, Harry couldn't help but laugh. Dobby was standing up, and piling each and every tea cosy on the floor around him onto the top of his head.

"Dobby, is that you?" Draco sounded slightly amused, and also slightly worried.

"MASTER DRACO! I is not seen you in a long time! How is you?" The elf caught Harry off guard by dashing into the open arms of Draco Malfoy, who received him with a warm hug. He knew Draco's family had owned Dobby, but with the way Dobby spoke of his former owners, coupled with all of the previous knowledge he had about Draco and his family, Harry had not expected Dobby and Draco to have a friendly relationship, to say the least.

"Are you working at Hogwarts now? I hadn't heard anything about you for ages."

"Yes! Dumbledore is offering Dobby a job, with pay!"

"Good for you, Dobby! Harry and I were just coming down for some food…"

Harry actually burst out laughing as Dobby nearly dragged Draco back into the kitchen. As soon is they entered, they were swarmed by additional house elves. The sight of so many house elves overwhelmed Draco, who had nearly disappeared under a pile of pastries.

"Okay, okay. Let the man breath! Thank you all very much." Harry followed them into the kitchen, and the beaming faces of house elves piled more pastries into his arms, before thanking him back and dispersing around the kitchens.

Draco just stood there, not knowing what had hit him. Dobby and Harry helped him over to a table, where the three of them sat and talked while Harry and Draco nibbled on the many pastries.

"I've missed you, Dobby."

"Dobby has missed Master Draco too."

"Dobby used to read to me when I was very little," Draco explained to Harry. "Father was always too busy, and mother…" Draco's face fell slightly as he picked up a new pastry to bite into. Harry didn't want to get into darker subjects just yet.

"What kinds of things did you read him, Dobby."

As Dobby talked about various wizarding children's stories, Harry and Draco would sneak glances at each other, some of these glances causing waves of fluttering in Harry's belly. Harry always thought house elves were oblivious to things like that, but Dobby seemed to catch on to what was going on.

"Soooo, Master Draco is close friends with Harry potter? Harry Potter is a good wizard, yes?"

"Yes, Dobby, he is." Draco smiled across at Harry as he spoke, "He is a VERY good wizard." At the look he gave Harry as he said that last line, Harry felt like he was melting from the inside.

"Would Masters Draco and Harry be liking Dobby to pack a basket of food so masters can enjoy this beautiful day together?"

"Yes, Dobby. That would be excellent. Thank you!" Draco smiled down at Dobby, who bolted off, conducting the nearby elves into action.

A rush of nervousness came over Harry at the thought of being alone with Draco, especially given what had almost just happened out in the hall. Harry wasn't exactly experienced, but he very much felt something for Draco. He just hoped he would be able to handle himself.

Elves rushed around them like a tornado, dropping Cornish pasties and all manner of other hand held foods into a basket. Harry found himself presented with the laden basket, and ushered, along with Draco, out into the hall, where the portrait slammed shut just after Dobby squeaked out, "Good luck, Master Draco!"

Draco was smiling at him, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle back. House elves really were funny creatures.

"Dobby was our house elf, as I suppose you know. Growing up an only child in a manor house, parents always engaged in some social function or another, it can get lonely. Dobby used to play with me when I was younger. For the longest time I always thought Father had ordered him to, it only occurred to me within the last few years that it would never even occur to Lucius to do that."

Harry had never heard Draco refer to his father as Lucius, and didn't know quite how to respond, so he opted for remaining silent.

"He mentioned you once or twice before you set him free. It annoyed me, actually…" Harry pulled a face at Draco. "What? You have to admit that there's always been some level of competition between us."

"I wouldn't call it 'competition,' Draco. I would call it 'You being a prat.'"

"I was nev…okay, I'll admit to being a prat, but you gave as well as you took."

At this, Harry stopped walking. Draco turned around, surprised at the frown on his face, and walked back to him. "I wouldn't call defending myself, or those who are important to me, 'giving as well as taking,' Draco. You have gone out of your way to torment, mock, and in some cases physically attack Ron, Hermione, and me."

Up until now, Draco had assumed that this conversation was all light hearted banter, but judging by the look on Harry's face, this was an issue that needed addressing. "I know, I know. The competition between us I mentioned earlier, I guess it's always been a bit one sided. Ever since the first time I met you, our first day here at Hogwarts, I guess I've been a bit jealous of your notoriety. You got all this attention, and I thought that you didn't deserve it." At Harry's attempted interruption, Draco silenced him. "Just let me get this out, it's something that needs to be said." He waited for Harry to nod before he continued.

"I thought I deserved the attention more than you. I knew you were raised by Muggles, and I stupidly thought that not growing up in our world had made you somehow inferior. Don't interrupt, I know that's bullshit. I just thought that you were… I don't know, but I had to prove that a pure-blood could beat you. I had to prove it to the world, but mostly I had to do it to prove my worth to my father.

"Remember, I was also a baby when You-Know-Who tried to kill you, I didn't have any memories from his former reign, all of my knowledge came from Lucius. I couldn't help but swallow it, it was all I knew. And up until about two years ago, I really couldn't understand what it meant to be his follower. For most of my life, You-Know-Who was just a bitter, arrogant, tone in my father's voice as he spoke about pure-bloods and Muggleborns. He never actually spoke of what his life was like before the day his master disappeared; he just spouted his bigoted ideals. Even after You-Know-Who's return, father didn't really speak openly with me about what he did. All I knew were snippets from the Prophet, or the wireless, which I never really believed. Who wants to believe that about their father? It wasn't until he told me that I was to become a Death Eater that I really understood what being a Death Eater means.

"But I was talking about us, you and me. I felt I had to beat you, to prove my worth to Lucius. But it became more than that. As we got older, I dunno, my feelings toward you changed. You proved me wrong, you and Granger. How could I go on believing that Muggleborns and others who are new to this world are inferior? Granger was living proof that you don't need to come from wizards to have talent. And you? You were another point entirely.

"I guess the competition changed. Sure, I still wanted to prove myself to my father, but I also wanted to prove myself to YOU. I wanted to show you that I was worthy of…I wanted to…I…" Draco had no idea how to get at what he was getting at. He didn't really think he understood it all himself, but explaining it was ever harder. "Ever since sixth year, I wanted you to notice me. I wanted to get under your skin. I wanted to get inside you." They both blushed at this, but Draco went on, "If the sexiest, most powerful, most well known wizard in the whole school sits up and takes a notice of you, well…that's a big ego boost. I guess the way to a Gryffindor's heart is not through childish one-upmanship."

Draco locked eyes with Harry, and no matter the intensity of the moment, or the power that crackled behind Harry's eyes, Draco refused to look away. Harry noticed him now, he had gotten under Harry's skin, and he wasn't going to let it go. He reached out and pulled Harry's face toward him, locking his fingers in that deliciously messy black hair. If Harry had put up a fight, he would never have got away, but Harry didn't put up a fight. He wrapped his arms around Draco, and melted into his embrace.

Their mouths met in a wet blaze, a wholly different kind of wet than Harry's first kiss. Whereas that kiss had been awkward and uncomfortable, this kiss sent shockwaves into Harry's mouth, through his body, down to his groin, stopping only to swirl around his heart.

This kiss was rough at first, all biting swollen lips and heat, but as a moan escaped from Harry, the kiss softened and deepened. Frantic movements became slow exploratory ones. Harry took a few steps forward, pushing at Draco until his back was up against a wall. Pressing him there, Harry slid his hands up and down Draco's sides. Draco's hands slid down Harry's back, until finding their destination at Harry's backside, where Draco squeezed and pulled Harry even deeper into him.

Erection brushed against erection, and both boys gasped. Harry pushed himself away from the wall a little, but Draco kept a firm hold of his lower half, not allowing the retreat. He looked at Harry, swollen lipped and panting, and began rocking his hips forward. Harry threw his head back in a moan, and Draco took that opportunity to affix his lips to Harry's neck. He kissed and licked, tasting the sweet, masculine, salty flavour of Harry before biting down gently but firmly at the place where Harry's neck met his shoulder. Harry moaned again and pulled himself tighter into Draco, meeting lips again as he pushed his hands up under Draco's shirt. Needing more skin contact himself, Draco pushed his hands into the back of Harry's trousers, under his pants, and grabbed Harry's backside even harder. He continued to rock into Harry as Harry pulled himself into Draco as close as they could get.

Their kiss sporadically interrupted with panting and breathless moans, the two boys rocked into each other. A shroud of dizziness enveloped Draco, and his limbs began to tingle as the throbbing built in his crotch. He could feel his orgasm building when…

"Excuse me! Just what do you think you are doing?"

Harry pushed himself away from the wall so quickly, Draco almost fell over. He looked up into the face of Minerva McGonagall, beside herself with indignation. He snuck a glance at Harry, who was still out of breath as if he had just run a marathon, and had the obvious look of a man who had just...well, been doing what they had been doing. His clothes were disrupted, his hair messy as ever, his lips swollen and red, his very prominent erection standing bold and unashamed, clearly visible through his trousers. Not even looking up at McGonagall, his eyes fixed on Draco with an intensity that could give even a marble statue pleasure.

It took McGonagall a second before she realized the gender of, and only a second more before she registered exactly which two students she had just discovered doing a bit more than snogging heavily in the halls. Her eyes went wide, her cheeks flushed, and Draco would bet all his family's wealth on the fact that she was slightly turned on, but she tried her best to take on a stern look.

The pink of her cheeks didn't quite match her firm but calmly disapproving tone of voice as she said, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, kindly proceed to the headmaster's office immediately, I will meet you there shortly."

Draco and Harry scuttled away, but as they turned the corner, Draco looked back to see McGonagall laying one hand on her chest, and reach the other up to straiten her hat and collar, before bending down to pick up their fallen picnic basket.

End Chapter Eight


	9. Chapter 9

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 9

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

It wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised when the boys showed up in his office. In fact when they entered, he merely offered them tea as if their being there had been prearranged. They politely refused the tea, and merely sat in their chairs, looking down at their own feet waiting for McGonagall's arrival. They dared not look at each other, not wanting to make matters worse for themselves. McGonagall arrived and explained the situation, purposefully not going into too much detail, and Dumbledore shocked the two boys by saying that they were both of age, and therefore free to pursue any kind of relationship they desired, though he did concur with McGonagall that the halls of an educational institution were not the most appropriate place to pursue it.

McGonagall looked ready to interject, and Draco surmised by her surreptitious glance in his direction as she collected her breath that her issue was not so much with Harry grinding into another boy in an abandoned hall in a school nearly devoid of other students, but that it was he, Draco, who Harry had been grinding against. He let himself begin to bristle with indignation, ready to defend himself. He wanted to remind her that he was Draco, not Lucius. He really wanted to see the look on her face when he showed her the changed mark.

Dumbledore seemed to catch on to what was happening as well. Obviously sensing a need to diffuse the situation, and to appease McGonagall, Dumbledore agreed that the boys would serve detention with him the next day, saying that the books in his office needed some organizing. He then greatly surprised Harry, Draco and McGonagall by reminding them all that as it was a holiday, that there were a number of lovely things to do and see in Hogsmeade, handing the boys their basket back, and sending them on their way.

Not one to refuse an easy out, Draco graciously accepted the offered basket. Politely excused himself and Harry, grabbed Harry's hand, and made a hasty retreat. As he closed the door behind them, the two boys heard Dumbledore begin to say to McGonagall, "I believe there is something you should know…"

They spent the rest of the day in Hogsmeade, visiting various shops, and ending up in the Three Broomsticks, where they shared a few Butterbeers. Harry found it easy to talk to Draco, and was surprised that they got along so well. They speculated about what Dumbledore had told McGonagall, they talked about Quidditch, they talked about their lives, growing up with resentful Muggles and bigoted supremacist fathers. As they talked about their thoughts on every subject under the sun, Harry found himself enthralled by Draco's melodic way of speaking, dazzled by his sense of humour, and impressed by his level of thoughtfulness. He wasn't completely selfish, as Harry had originally assumed he would be. He was confident, and admittedly a bit conceited, but he also had an obvious sense of right and wrong, and a delightfully surprising sense of personal responsibility. Harry found his attraction to Draco growing with every word he uttered.

They were careful to keep things chaste, given their incredibly strong reactions toward each other earlier. Still, they could feel the hot tension when they accidently brushed, or in some cases, purposefully. Their searing eye contact seemed to fill the very air with static; their magnetic pull toward each other was nearly palpable, and drew a few raised eyebrows from other nearby patrons in the pub.

They came back to the castle for dinner, as their picnic supply had been exhausted. They sat on opposite sides of the great hall, making eyes at each other as they slowly made way through their plates of shepherd's pie. Whenever sneaking a glance at the head table, Draco would often notice McGonagall giving Harry or him speculative looks, as if trying to figure something out. At one point, when he grinned across the hall at Harry, causing Harry to grin like a maniac in return, McGonagall actually smiled at him, and he could swear that he saw an almost imperceptible nod before she returned to her own shepherd's pie.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't notice a thing in the room except Draco. He watched as Draco ate, thinking how perfect his hands were and how perfect his mouth. He watched as Draco smiled at him, filling him with warmth. He watched as Draco smirked at him, causing a totally different kind of warmth, and a tingle.

He watched as Draco's chest rose and fell with his calm, steady breathing, remembering how it did so quicker, but more deeply, as Harry had pressed him into that wall. He remembered the hard muscles he could feel through Draco's clothes, and the hardness he could feel through layers of fabric when Draco rocked into him.

He realized that he had better not stand up any time soon, lest he mentally scar the second year who sat only a few meters away from him at the Gryffindor table. He mused to himself that he should start to wear more denim, and less soft cotton trousers that, unfortunately, accentuated, rather than mask, predicaments like he currently found himself in. It would draw too many stares if he wore his school robes during break.

As students and staff finished their meals and departed, Harry and Draco waited. They had planned on meeting up that evening before going back to their respective dorms. McGonagall walked by, telling Harry that he was to report to Dumbledore's office at seven o'clock sharp the next morning. He smiled at her answering, "Yes, professor," which earned him a smile and a pat on the back before she hurried off.

Draco caught his eye, and he and Harry rose at the same time, making their way to the doors into the entrance hall. As they both reached the doors, Snape caught up with them.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word please," he said, stopping Draco in his tracks. Harry stopped too, but Snape would have none of this. "Potter, kindly return to Gryffindor tower. This does not concern you."

Harry and Draco shared a look, and Draco reluctantly nodded. Harry thought about waiting in the entrance hall, but decided against this, considering the reaction he would likely get from Snape if he did so. Resolved to his fate of not again feeling Draco's lips on his that evening, Harry made his way up to Gryffindor tower, thinking of Draco the whole way.

Arriving in his dormitory, Harry mused on how glad he was to have the space to himself for once in his life. His room at the Dursley's was far from private, given that they felt the right to enter it at will, never knocking; and he loved the companionship of his fellow Gryffindor seventh years, but enjoyed the fact that he had this time alone, especially given his activities of late…

He had never really thought of himself as a sexual person. He honestly didn't think about it much, and he was pretty sure his 'self exploration' occurred less often than that of his dorm mates, especially Seamus, who often had to be reminded to cast a silencing charm, much to the chagrin of the other Seventh years.

That was never a problem for Harry, that is, until his revelation of a few months ago. Since he realized that he was totally, utterly, and hopelessly attracted to men, he had been making up for lost time. All that past semester, he had found himself having to cast a silencing charm and give himself a quick wank at least once a day. He would think about various attractive people, Oliver Wood and Bill Weasley making common occurrences, but always by the end, his fantasies would be dominated by the faceless grey eyed man from his dreams. Harry undressed as he felt a swell of appreciation for his break from dorm mates for a time. He could dispense with his usual silencing charm.

As he reached for his pyjamas, a thought occurred to him. He had never been allowed a full range of movement when wanking, because his rushed wanks had always had to involve slipping a hand down into his pants. Casting a quick locking spellat the door, Harry instead removed his white cotton undershirt, so old it appeared more grey than white. He thought about how Draco's undergarments were probably pristine white, no-black, he smiled at himself, sliding his hand down his chest, and slipping his fingers into the waist band of his equally grey white cotton boxers. Pulling them slowly down his hips, his growing erection bobbed into sight. Letting them fall around his ankles, he stepped out of his pants, and quickly jumped under the covers, amused at his own embarrassment despite the empty room.

He lay now, probably for the first time in his life, naked in a bed. Letting his tinge of embarrassment fade, he pushed the covers down his body, kicking them to the end of the bed with his feet. He thought about the way Draco kissed him that day, brushing one finger slightly over his bottom lip, and marvelling at the sensitivity of a body part he had never even considered before. He thought again about the feel of Draco's lips, tongue and teeth against his throat, moving his hand down to the area, again amazed at the sensitivity, enjoying the soft, warm, tickling, tingle as he brushed his fingers along his jaw, and down the path of his jugular vein, and onto his shoulder. Wondering how many other parts of his body contained the capacity for sexual pleasure, he let his hands explore, finding the palms of his hands, his inner arms, and his chest all especially responsive to the right kind of touch. He experimented with soft fluttering touches, like the brush of butterfly wings, he tried firmer caresses. He sometimes dragged his nails across his flesh, trying out different amounts of pressure, from a soft scrape that was barely there, to a firm, slow dig of nails across his chest, all the while, imagining that they were Draco's hands, not his own, that made him feel this way.

The Draco in his mind often followed the firm strong touch of hand with the fluttering caress of lips or tongue. Moving down Harry's body, he touched, kissed, licked and bit his way down to the happy trail of soft, dark, hair on Harry's lower abdomen. Harry was hard and aching with need, but held off as Draco showed him his body's capacity for pleasure at a myriad of touches around his groin and thighs. Finally, Harry felt like a dam was about to burst, and he grabbed hold of himself. Draco's firm voice in his mind whispered for him to take it easy. He brushed ever so softly up one side and down the other of Harry's throbbing cock, first with finger, then with tongue, following suit up the underside and down the top. Harry's skin prickled with goose pimples, his overflowing need causing his arm and back muscles to actually shake. Finally, his fantasy Draco moved up his body, kissing him deeply as he began pumping slowly and firmly, making Harry pant, moan, grunt and finally call out Draco's name as a burst of ecstasy rocked his body so hard, he could swear he lost contact with the bed. His muscles twitching out the last of their pleasure, his fantasy Draco locked eyes with him, wrapping him in a warm comfortable embrace. On the edge of sleep, he looked into the eyes of the man from his dreams. Sleepily saying, "I'm glad it's you, Draco." He nuzzled deeper into the embrace, fully asleep.

-o-o-o-o-

Draco woke up at 5:00. Since he didn't need to be down to his detention until 7:00, he decided to take the time to relax before preparing for his day. He lay in bed, staring up at the green velvet canopy, thinking about Harry.

He had been really looking forward to some alone time with Harry the evening before. After Snape sent Harry away, he told Draco to report to Dumbledore's office at seven the next morning, and then broached the subject of Harry. "I do not think it…wise, for you to flaunt your…" he fumbled over a word for it before he begrudgingly spat out, "relationship, with Potter. It is no doubt that many will think you unworthy of their 'hero.'" He said it like it was a dirty word. "It will not make you popular among your house mates, either."

"I beg to differ, professor. What better match for a Malfoy than such a well known wizard? Any Slytherin would have to admit, we dislike the mundane, and Harry Potter is anything but. As for everyone else, well, I think being with Harry peeves all the right people. Is that all, Professor?"

Snape looked ready to say something back, but thought better of it. He gave a curt nod and turned away, robes billowing behind him as he made his way swiftly to the dungeons.

Had Draco known his meeting with Snape would be so short, he would have tried to signal for Harry to wait up for him. As it was, he made his way down to the dungeons alone. He lay awake for a while, not able to shut his mind down enough for sleep. He finally dozed near midnight.

He was right when he told Snape that Harry was anything but mundane. Neither of Draco's past boyfriends had excited Draco the way Harry did, and not just physically. Draco felt superior to his other boyfriends, which is no surprise, because he felt superior to just about everyone. They were below him, in talent, and in intelligence. He had to admit that at first he enjoyed surrounding himself with those lower than he, it made him feel that much bigger. For a few years Crabbe and Goyle were his best friends, merely because he found them easy to dominate, he chose his lovers in the same way. But after a while he would bore of them, and find himself wanting a challenge.

He couldn't think of a bigger challenge than Harry Potter. Not only was he probably the most powerful wizard alive right now, he was intelligent, witty, had a killer body, and a stubborn streak longer than the Nile. With his brilliant green eyes standing out against his creamy skin, a sexy mess of jet black on top (green and black had always been Draco's favourite colours), Harry was gorgeous. Of all the wizards Draco was ever likely to meet, he knew he could never find one worthier than Harry, and he found himself further awestruck by the fact that such a powerful wizard, with so many admirable qualities, could be so down to earth and self-abasing. Harry had a charming selflessness that Draco had to admit he found aggravating and irresistible at the same time, though he would never admit out loud to enjoying such an obvious Gryffindor quality.

Draco looked down at his arm properly for the first time since finding out the mark had changed. There, a snake and phoenix wove in and out of each other in a beautifully intricate web of Celtic knots. If he were to pick a tattoo, he would have picked one like this. He liked the snake as a proud symbol of his house at Hogwarts, but more than that, it intrigued him how snakes shed their skin when they get too big for their old one, a sign of growth and accomplishment. Similarly, he had always been drawn to phoenixes, reborn from the ashes of a harsh past. The way they entwined in a Celtic knot that had no discernable beginning or end, symbolized eternity. He traced the mark with his fingers, thinking of Harry. Had Harry changed the mark to look like this on purpose? Had Draco? Either way, he thought it was beautiful.

He got out of bed to look at himself in the mirror, admiring the way the new mark looked against his pale skin. He thought it gave him a sort of bad-ass appeal, wondering if Harry liked the bad-boy type. Finally he decided to get ready for the day, hoping that if he left early, he might get some time with Harry before their detention started. He chose, for the first time in months, a short sleeved button up shirt in black. He no longer felt the need to hide his arms, and in fact was eager to show off his new mark, but mostly, he liked how looking down at his arm reminded him of Harry.

As he brushed his teeth he surprised himself by thinking of Harry in terms of forever, something he never thought he would be interested in. He rinsed and spat, looking up at himself in the mirror in a bemused sort of way. "I can't believe you've fallen for Harry-bloody-Potter." The face in the mirror just grinned back at him.

Not knowing where the entrance to Gryffindor tower lay, Draco didn't know which way to go to increase his chances of running into Harry before their detention actually began. After quickly popping his head into the great hall, and seeing no Harry, he opted to head straight to the corridor to the head's office, hoping that Harry would decide to come early too. The time ticked by on his watch, and Draco finally went up to the head's office, not wanting to be late.

The man greeted him warmly, which seemed odd for a detention, and offered him a seat while they waited for Harry. Dumbledore made small talk, asking about Draco's studies, and asking about Harry. For once, Draco didn't know what to say, here merely smiled down at his hands in an almost embarrassed way.

It was ten after seven before Harry showed up. He slammed through the door, slightly flushed and out of breath. "Sorry, Professor, I…er," he looked over toward Draco, blushing in an embarrassed way as he finished, "overslept."

"Oh, that's quite fine, Harry. Well, shall we begin?"

He had them take books off of the shelf that had been read and then put back haphazardly, and put them back in an organized way, based on subject and who wrote them. It surprised Harry and Draco that he allowed them to use magic, and that he even helped them. Draco found this odd, seeing as how Dumbledore could have done it twice as fast by himself, because half the time was filled with Harry or Draco asking things like whether _Transfigurational Potions _would go under Transfiguration or Potions, or whether_ Memoirs of a Werewolf in Love_ would go under Magical Creatures or Biographies.

They finished after only an hour, and Dumbledore asked if they would like to join him for a spot of tea. Thinking it rude to deny after having been given such and easy sentence, the boys agreed. They sat with Dumbledore as he conjured tea and scones, which both boys dove into, as they had both skipped breakfast. He asked about school and how they were enjoying their break, and they answered as they sipped their tea. All the while, Draco waited for the other shoe to drop. Where this was going, he had no idea.

Finally, Dumbledore got around to what he seemed to be working his way toward this whole time. "I've been thinking about the changing of your mark, Draco. It is really quite remarkable that you two were able to break such a dark spell, one that has been known, up until now, to be unbreakable."

"How do you know WE broke it, sir?"

"Of that, Harry, I have no doubt. Only powerful magic could have broken through such powerful dark magic, and you two were the only ones present, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, we were. But neither of us did magic."

"I was hardly coherent at the time…"

"And I didn't even have my wand on me. I just…" Harry cut himself short, casting a sideways glance toward Draco.

"What did happen out there?" Draco focused his gaze at Harry, needing to know.

"Well, er…what do you remember?"

"You saw the Mark and ran, I tried to stop you, then it was just pain, and then…nothing."

"Well, I heard you scream, and came back."

"You came back? You willingly approached someone you knew to have the Dark Mark, unarmed? It could have been a trap!" Draco's urgent tone confused Harry.

"Yes, but it wasn't, so what's the problem?"

"Are all Gryffindors so bloody trusting? Sorry, professor." He gave Dumbledore a sheepish grin, merely getting a smile and nod in return. "You can't go out altruistically rushing to save everybody who needs help, Potter, you have to look after your own skin sometimes!"

Draco referring to him by his surname got his attention more that anything else he had said. "I…I wouldn't n-normally do that, not alone and unarmed, at least. But I knew you wouldn't hurt me." He surprised himself with that admission, not even knowing it was true until he heard himself say it.

"How could you know that?"

"I…I don…I don't know, but it's true."

Dumbledore seemed to find this bit interesting, if his brief raise of eyebrows was any indication.

"Okay, so after you came back…"

Harry's blush returned full force this time, "Er, well…I…I touched the Mark. That's when you really lost it. After you passed out I…I…I justheldyouinmyarms."

"What?" Draco asked, fighting down a blush of his own now.

"I said-"

"No, I heard you…but why?"

"I don't know…"

"But neither of you did magic?"

"No, I mean, if I had thought it possible…"

"I wanted it gone in the worst way…"

The boys looked at each other. Harry offered, "Perhaps it was a delayed effect, of all your attempts."

"I do not believe this possible. A spell that could break through magic as thick and dark as the Mark requires focus. Neither of you used a wand?"

"No…"

"I didn't have mine on me either, didn't want to snap it in a rough game of quidditch."

For the first time in Harry's memory, Dumbledore looked at a loss for words.

End Chapter Nine


	10. Chapter 10

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 10

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

The boys had been spending their whole days together since their detention with Dumbledore. Going into Hogsmeade, playing Quidditch, playing Wizard Chess, sometimes even just sitting in a companionable silence, each pursuing his own reading interests, content to just be together. Whether on the grounds, in the library, or in the great hall, they were careful not to engage in too much physical contact, partly attempting to avoid further punishment. They were especially diligent at trying to appear as if everything was as it had always been when other students were around. Despite his biting comments to Snape, Draco didn't want to stir up any trouble for himself or Harry. Both boys knew that if it became known exactly how chummy the boy who lived and his former rival, the son of a convicted death eater, had become, it would spread through the school faster than an outbreak of dragon fever. The absence of any other Slytherin students made this not so much a problem at the moment, but once the other Slytherins returned, many of them children of death eaters, and possibly a few of them having joined the ranks in the meantime, they would have to be extra careful. They figured they might as well practice now.

Harry had included Hogsmeade in this as well. Seeing as how his face had been plastered across The Profit, Witch Weekly, The Quibbler, and who knows how many other wizarding publications countless times since his fourth year, those in the wizarding world no longer needed to see his scar, or recognize his similarity to his father to know right away who he was. He didn't fancy seeing himself any more in the press, and he had a feeling that, given the general wizarding population's fixation on him, the revealing of his true romantic proclivities would definitely be considered newsworthy.

They reserved most physical activity for the room of requirement. The first time Harry had taken him there, and actually explained the concept behind the room that Draco and his Inquisitorial Squad had had so much trouble actually getting into during fifth year, Draco was intrigued. Harry sat back, watching in amusement as Draco paced in front of the door, face fixed in concentration, opening it after it appeared during his third pass, looking inside, closing the door and pacing some more. First Draco turned it into a theatre, complete with a red velvet curtained stage in front, then a discothèque with flashing lights and music blaring, then a café, with a buffet full of food against the back wall, then a toilet, where he grinned at Harry, saying "Excuse me for a sec," and went in. He reemerged and paced again, turning the room into a Greco-Roman styled bath house/sauna, complete with a very large, very homoerotic marble statue behind the columns. Harry raised an eyebrow at the boy, who answered with a smirk.

He closed the door one last time, paced, and opened it again, revealing a cozy little lounge that reminded Harry of the Slytherin common room. There was wood paneling on the walls, a green leather couch in front of a grand fire place, a couple of matching winged back chairs to the side with a table between them. Near the entrance, there were silver wall lamps with green glass shades. The only real difference between this room and the Slytherin common room, besides the size, was that the far wall, opposite the door, was full of windows.

In that first visit to the Room of Requirement, and each subsequent visit, the boys felt free to interact without having to worry about self-censorship. They spoke of things they didn't want others overhearing, and they didn't refrain from prolonged physical contact. In fact, they could often be seen, if anyone knew where to look, wrapped into each other on the leather couch, mouths tasting and limbs entangling. They stayed fully clothed and kept hands either above the waist or above the clothes. Still, the intensity of their physical reactions to each other caught both of them off guard, and left both of them wanting more.

Harry's dreams had been getting better, and worse. They were better because now that the faceless man had the face of Draco, his embrace felt that much more right. As they spent more and more time together in their waking hours, Harry's time spent with Draco in his dream began to intensify exponentially. Even just the meeting of eyes would set Harry's insides on fire. This made it all the worse, since everything he felt in the dream filled Harry with feelings of so right, and perfect, and forever, when Draco would inevitably be torn away in that cursed fog, and Harry would find himself so helpless to stop it, it caused that much more pain.

After one particularly heavy night of dreams that set his body and heart ablaze just to douse his soul in blackness, he made his way down to breakfast. Draco and he had worked out a system where the first one up for breakfast in the morning would wait for the other to finish eating, then they would both leave to spend their day together. Harry felt particularly rough, and could have used more sleep, but didn't want to miss Draco. He had nearly lost consciousness in his bowl of porridge twice when Draco entered the great hall, giving Harry pause. Draco looked as bad as Harry felt. He had dark circles under his eyes, which made his fair skin look that much paler. As he entered the great hall, his attempted smile at Harry came out as more a grimace of pain than anything else. He collapsed at the Slytherin table, head immediately crashing down on his folded arms. It wouldn't have surprised Harry if he had fallen asleep as soon as his head fell, but then he shifted his neck and looked at Harry again with the most pathetic look Harry had ever seen.

Seeing Draco Malfoy, who came from a very proper elitist upbringing doing something as uncouth as collapsing onto the breakfast table spurred Harry into action more than anything else. He got up and made his way to the Slytherin table. Doing his own, more controlled version of a collapse next to Draco on the bench, and earning more than a few raised eyebrows from the students and staff who were already in the great hall, Harry asked Draco what the matter was.

"I've been having nightmares."

"Yeah, you and me both."

"Harry, this is going to sound crazy, but…" Eyeing a Ravenclaw sitting nearby who seemed to be trying to look sideways at the boys without getting caught, Draco nodded his head to the doors leading to the entrance hall, grabbed Harry by the wrist, and drug him through the doors. "Lets go to the room," he whispered as they passed two Hufflepuffs walking into the great hall.

Upon entering the room of requirement, Draco immediately went to the couch, falling backward on it and throwing his arm over his eyes. The whole display brought to Harry's mind images of Victorian ladies and fainting couches. Though he felt the same way himself, he couldn't help but chuckle. He made his own way over to the couch, collecting Draco's feet into his arms, he lifted them and sat down, resting them back in his lap when he was done.

They sat in silence for a time, before Draco started to speak. "So, I've been having these…dreams I guess. I mean, I'm seeing these things in my sleep, but I could swear that they're not…I'm seeing through You Know Who's eyes. Or into his thoughts…Harry, what's wrong?"

Midway through Draco's speech Harry had shot blot upright. "Go on...!"

"Er, well, in my dreams he's plotting something. He wants to stir up some trouble here at Hogwarts. It's not an attack or anything. He just wants to, I don't know, cause fear, I guess."

"What specifically is he planning?"

"That's the problem. I never see any specifics; I don't think HE even knows. He seems to be trying to figure out a way to terrify everyone without risking his own people. But these aren't like normal dreams, Harry. I could swear I'm actually getting glimpses into the mental workings of the Dark Lord. Sounds crazy, huh?"

"Not as crazy as you'd think."

Draco, not sure if he was kidding or not, just peered up at him bleakly as Harry went in to the Cliff's Notes version of an explanation about his scar, ending with the attack on Arthur Weasley, the trap in the Department of Mysteries during fifth year, and the reason they were so well prepared for the attack on the Ministry sixth months ago.

"You know, these dreams started just after my marking. You don't think…"

"Have you told Dumbledore about this?"

"No, I've told Snape, but he doesn't seem to think it's anything important."

"I think we need to tell him." Harry stood and began walking toward the door.

"What, now?" Draco reluctantly got up and followed, even through his protest.

They made their way quickly to the corridor to Dumbledore's office. They were practically running by the time the arrived, and it took them a few minutes to catch their breath before they were able to speak more than five words at once. Draco finally explained everything as Dumbledore surveyed the boys over his glasses. After Draco finished talking, he calmly asked, "Do you believe that Voldemort is aware of your presence in his thoughts?"

"Actually, I think he hasn't a clue." The emphatic nature of his proclamation surprised Harry. At his questioning look, Draco continued, "I mean, the inanity of some of these thoughts… like he's having an internal debate about what to wear that day, or what to have for breakfast. He's not just thinking about ways to stir up trouble, he's frustrated about things, he's…I don't know if this would be the right word, but he's worried or insecure about certain things. He's…scared. If provoking fear and awe in your enemies as well as your followers were a goal of yours, you wouldn't let anyone in on that."

"Quite." Dumbledore was surveying Draco with a satisfied glint in his eyes. Harry had to agree, though he hoped Dumbledore wasn't sharing ALL of Harry's thoughts, as some of them dealt with how deliciously alluring he found Draco at the moment.

Breaking himself out of his thoughts, he asked, "So do you think this is something like my scar?"

"It would not surprise me one bit. The way the mark works, if a failed curse can make this kind of connection, a failed marking would be even more likely to do so." At this, Harry looked confused, so Dumbledore went on, "The Dark Mark opens up a wizard or witch's power store to Voldemort. He can draw on it if he needs. It's not a direct leach of energy, but it can act as a boost in times of great need. It also makes said wizard or witch's magic not work against Voldemort in a harmful way. All of his death eaters could cast a killing curse toward him at once, and Voldemort wouldn't so much as feel a slight breeze. Since the curse links him to his followers in such a direct way, I believe a mental transfer like this could be facilitated by that connection."

This horrified Harry to no end. Magic was a precious thing in his eyes, and the stealing or controlling of another's power sounded like the most intimate violation Harry could think of. He looked at Draco and was even more shocked when the Slytherin didn't show one sign of surprise. "Did you know about this?"

"Well, not in so many words, but it's generally understood, at least among death eaters and their kin."

"Does that mean Voldemort could be sucking Draco dry as we speak?"

"Only during times of great need would Voldemort be able to draw from his followers, such as if he were in mortal peril, or believed himself to be. Surprisingly, only twice in the past sixteen years has he drawn on this property of the mark."

"When?" Harry couldn't stop himself from asking.

"The first was the night he murdered your parents. We believe he used the extra power to prevent his own death, which could explain how he was able to survive the rebounded killing curse. The second time was the night he was returned to corporeal form. I believe he was dueling with you at the time."

-o-o-o-o-

The next week found Harry and Draco meeting with Dumbledore on numerous occasions, trying to find the best way to determine what Draco's nighttime visions actually were, and how best to harness the knowledge if the visions were a real connection with Voldemort's mind. They had also begun joint Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore at once, in case Voldemort were to ever become aware of his connection to Draco. Harry found that while he was improving dramatically with the addition of another pupil to the class, lessons still left his brain feeling fried afterward.

The next Saturday night, after a particularly grueling session, Harry found himself unable to get to sleep. He kept going over everything they been through this past week. There was so much going through his head, he couldn't even lay it down on his pillow. He paced around his dormitory, wondering what Draco thought about all of this. He knew what it was like to share Voldemort's thoughts when you sleep; he wondered how Draco was handling the notion that his dreams may be more than just dreams.

He had grown surprisingly close to Draco over break, and he was un-looking forward to the return of his fellow students the next day, which would seriously limit his Draco-time. Their time together had been wonderful, but Harry wanted more. He found himself craving Draco's presence, which was understandable. What surprised him was his desire for Draco, in every way possible.

Harry was definitely what you would call sexually inexperienced, but at least he knew the general logistics of heterosexual sex. Gay sex was another matter, and Harry admitted to himself that in that regard he didn't know which way was up. During their time spent in the room of requirement, they had engaged in some seriously heavy petting, but clothes had remained present, though sometimes admittedly disheveled. The number of times over winter break that Harry had relieved the pressure built with Draco in the room of requirement only after they had said their goodnights and Harry had made his way to his dormitory-alone, was staggering.

After dwelling with his thoughts on Draco for a number of minutes, Harry made a flash decision. He grabbed his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map and made his way down to the dungeons.

As he reached the span of wall he knew hid the entrance to the Slytherin Common room, he looked down at the map and read the little speech bubble that had appeared above the dot labeled Harry Potter. After reciting "Oculus Serpens," he stepped into the opening that appeared before him. Seeing on the map that Draco was up in his dormitory, he made his way up the stairs. After a brief hesitation he knocked on the door. Draco answered, peering around with a confused look on his face. It was only after Draco's tentative, "Hello?" that Harry remembered that he was still wearing his invisibility cloak.

He threw it off and threw himself at Draco, barely registering the look of shock on the Slytherin's face before their lips crashed and both boys' eyes fluttered shut.

-o-o-o-o-

The pain behind Draco's eyes gave a particularly painful throb and he sat up in bed, throwing his legs over the edge to put on his slippers, a necessity when one sleeps in the dungeons. He got up and rifled through the trunk at the foot of his bed for a headache cure potion. After swallowing a few drops, he felt the pain melt away instantly, but that only shifted his focus away from his physical discomfort to the reason behind it. He understood the importance of learning to shield his mind in case Voldemort learned of their connection, but he felt that shutting his mind to Voldemort was a bad idea when he could possibly learn something useful through the connection. Plus, the lessons were a pain, and after each session he always felt like someone had put his brain through a meat grinder.

This evening's lesson had been particularly trying. After a few successful sessions of fending off the headmaster's more weak attempts at Leglimancy, he had informed them that this session would involve fighting off one of the stronger Leglimancy spells in Dumbledore's arsenal. It was designed to get at the thoughts that the subject most wanted to remain hidden from the specific caster, which could result in dire consequences in a war with Voldemort, but mainly just embarrassment when the caster was someone you respect or someone in a position of authority over you. For Draco, Dumbledore was both. The warning hadn't really helped them much, and Dumbledore was able to break through both boys' defenses quite easily.

Harry had gone first, which had ended with the Gryffindor blushing and not meeting Dumbledore's gaze. Dumbledore then turned, with what Draco could swear was an amused glint in his eyes, to the Slytherin to cast the spell. The first few thoughts that had been ripped from his mind (an appropriate metaphor, Draco thought, because that's what it felt like afterward) were memories of things he had said about Dumbledore when he was younger. After a few castings, he tried to apologize to the headmaster, but the man would hear none of it. Assuring him that he need not worry about it, they proceeded with the lesson.

The last casting of the evening revealed to Dumbledore one of Draco's memories from earlier in the week involving the Slytherin laying alone in his bed, moaning Harry's name. Draco could swear he had blushed even brighter than Harry, if that were possible, and Dumbledore had taken pity on him and let them go early. Fear of further embarrassment was inspiring Draco to work all the harder to block Dumbledore's attempts from now on, which Draco could swear was the reason Dumbledore had picked that particular spell to use in training. For a Gryffindor, the man was quite sneaky.

Draco sat back in bed, knowing that sleep was going to be an elusive commodity this night. He grabbed a book to read in attempts to slow his mind. Of course, reading was hardly keeping his mind off of Harry. Although this could have been because he had chosen a book about Qudditch, which had brought to mind visions of Harry straddling a broom, gripping the end tightly as he expertly maneuvered through the air, a sight Draco had grown to appreciate over the years, even though it irritated him to no end that Slytherin was always loosing to Gryffindor largely because of that expert maneuvering. Half hour later, he had read the same paragraph about twenty times, and still couldn't say what it had said. As he closed the book he heard a knock on the door.

As the only Slytherin student at Hogwarts over the holidays, Draco figured that it must be Professor Snape at the door, though he couldn't guess as to the reason for the head of Slytherin to visit at this hour in the night. He was even further perplexed when he opened the door to reveal no one. Peaves was a possibility, but it was more the Poltergeist's style to barge into a room, pelting its inhabitants with dungbombs than to knock on the door and disappear afterward.

His tentative, "Hello?" was answered by the flutter of a cloak, and the flurry of motion that was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, pushing the Slytherin backwards into his dormitory and pining him up against a bed with his body. Draco responded without hesitation, only stopping to consider the absurdity of the situation after a few moments of enjoying Harry pressing his body into the rail holding up the canopy on Goyle's bed. Finally, he pushed against Harry's chest, just enough to get some air between their lips.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I just wanted to see you," Harry said, pushing Draco back onto the bed behind him and slipping his hands up under Draco's shirt. The added skin to skin contact was making it even harder for the Slytherin to think, but eventually he came to enough to attempt a protest.

"Wait, Harr-"

"Shh, no." The Gryffindor pressed his finger against the Slytherin's mouth before adding, "I just can't stop thinking...I just want…I want you." He kept his finger on Draco's mouth, tracing it gently with his fingertips as he lowered his mouth down to Draco's throat, tracing its contours with his own lips and tongue. Again, Draco's mind went fuzzy, and it took even longer to get it working again. But somehow, through the tingling of his lips and the warm wetness on his neck he was able to string more than two words together that didn't include 'God' 'Harry' or 'yes'.

Pushing up against the Gryffindor's shoulders enough to create some distance between them and allow his mind to start working again, he finally spoke. "No, I mean…This isn't my bed."

Harry pulled back and looked around the room as if expecting to see a sign pointing him in the right direction, and Draco decided to take this as an opportunity to gain control of the situation. He grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him over to his own bed. Pushing him down across the width of the bed, Draco crawled atop him, straddling his hips. Mapping Harry's neck with his mouth, Draco let his hands wander up and down every bit of Harry's body he could reach, letting Harry's breathless gasps and moans guide his every action. Reaching his arms up to push Harry's top over his head, he continued down, playing Harry's body like a master pianist on a Steinway, eliciting sounds from the boy that seemed to shoot straight down to Draco's own cock.

Pulling back more and shifting down onto the floor, Draco positioned himself between Harry's legs dangling off the side of the bed. Kissing Harry's thighs through the fabric of his trousers, he cupped his hand firmly around Harry's already rock hard bulge and forced a warm breath through the layers of fabric. As if the blast of warm air was a shot of adrenaline, Harry tensed up and looked down, meeting Draco's eyes and answering the Slytherin's unspoken question with a nod. Maintaining eye contact, Draco moved up the bed and laid half on top of, and half beside Harry.

He reached down and undid Harry's belt, button and zipper in agonizingly slow movements, watching Harry pant in anticipation. Whenever the Gryffindor would close his eyes at the tumult of sensations bombarding his brain, Draco would stop moving, waiting for him to reestablish eye contact before continuing. Harry caught on quickly, and fought to keep his eyes open and fixed on Draco, whose look of pure want and hunger was just as intense as Harry's aching need. Finally, he reached in and pushed his hand into Harry's pants, slowly sliding open-palmed down his groin and thigh, as far down as he could reach, before coming up quickly in the middle and grasping Harry's swollen cock.

It was far too much for Harry, who had never enjoyed another's touch in such an intimate way. The look in Draco's eyes and the burst of joy in Harry's chest overwhelmed him, and before Draco could even move Harry was exploding over his hand, his body shuddering violently.

"Um, wow," was all Draco could think to say as he watched Harry come down from his orgasm. Draco hadn't expected that to go so quickly, but he knew the night was young. Before Harry could recover fully and register any embarrassment; Draco pulled his pajamas off and lay back in bed, pulling Harry on top of him. They kissed, and Draco let Harry take control.

-o-o-o-o-

He knew he did more than his fair share of fumbling, but he let Draco's responses and his own knowledge of what he liked be his guide. He kissed and explored Draco's body, enjoying the look and feel of it, for once unhampered by clothing. He wrapped his hand around Draco and began to pump, watching Draco's every reaction. He watched as the Syltherin's hands grabbed and pawed at the bed beneath him, he watched as his muscles slowly tightened like a coil ready to snap, he watched as Draco's toes curled and his back arched. When he felt a hand grasp at the back of his neck, he turned in time to see Draco panting and moaning his name as he spilled out over Harry's hand. Watching Draco orgasm was the sexiest thing Harry had ever seen. The Slytherin was truly incredible, and Harry watched, slack jawed as Draco recovered, lazily peering up at Harry through heavily lidded eyes. He bent down and kissed the still panting boy beneath him. After a long lazy kiss, Draco pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry about that," Harry tried to apologize.

"Sorry about what?"

"Sorry I-you know-finished so quickly."

Draco smirked up at the other boy before sweeping his eyes down the space between their bodies. "You don't FEEL finished to me," he said, pushing his thigh upwards into Harry's crotch to accentuate his point.

Not realizing how achingly hard he was until Draco pushed up into him, he tried to forced down a blush as he blundered, "Yeah, well. Watching you…the way you…that was hot."

"Well, let's do something about that." He shifted their weight and before Harry could register a response, he found himself on bottom with a very naked Slytherin shimmying his still unfastened trousers down his body. After getting them off and tossing them across the room, the boy remained kneeling at the foot of the bed, finally able to take in the sight of Harry, fully nude and fully hard, spread eagle on a bed. Despite his tendency toward very physical displays of embarrassment and his strong reaction to Draco's touch earlier, Harry lay surprisingly unashamed before the Slytherin now, breathing hard and looking like a sex god as he reached his arms out to Draco.

Not willing to pass up such an enticing offer, the Slytherin slid his body back up the Gryffindor, allowing his already re-hardening member to rub up Harry's length before stopping eye to eye with him and resuming their kiss. With nothing between them now, they hungrily devoured each other. Slow and tentative movements given over to free exploration. Harry was quite vocal as he let his abandon fly and Draco enjoyed eliciting responses from him. He moved down and sucked at a nipple, and Harry's hand flew up and fisted tighly in Draco's hair, words of encouragement replaced with nonsensical growls and moans.

Draco moved down Harry's torso, making a mental list of the most sensitive areas and filing it away for future use. Finally, reaching his destination, he looked back up at Harry as he lowered his mouth down around him, sucking and licking his way slowly back upward. Harry's fist remained almost painfully entwined in Draco's golden locks as he watched the Slytherin quickly plunge down his length and slowly pull back up, again and again, down and up, down and up. He watched as that beautiful mouth stretched tightly around him, lips forming a perfect seal as he sucked upward only to open up and plunge down again. Not wanting it to end, but unable to fight off his orgasm, he shuddered and moaned and Draco enthusiastically drank down everything Harry had to offer.

He crawled up and lay beside the Gryffindor, allowing him time to recover. He rested his head in the crook of Harry's arm and dozed with the boy. He stirred a while later, not knowing how much time had passed, and found Harry rubbing lazy circles up and down his back. He opened his eyes and looked up to find Harry smiling down at him in the pale torch light.

"Hi."

It wasn't the wittiest or most meaningful thing to say, but lying there in Harry's arms, it felt like the most beautifully romantic word Harry could have possibly said.

"Hullo there."

They kissed lazily for a while, before Harry moved in closer and Draco became aware of a number of things. First was that the erection that had come back full force as he had swallowed Harry down earlier remained painfully present now. Second was that Harry was also hard as a rock again. Third was that he wanted nothing more than to do something about numbers one and two. As Harry deepened the kiss, Draco languidly slid his hand between them and began fisting both of them together in a slow, steady rhythm. They kissed as he pumped, one or the other of them occasionally breaking the kiss to lock eyes or move lips to other accessible regions. Their movements before now had been needy, with a feverish intensity, but now they took their time to enjoy the look and feel of each other. This time was no less intense, though, as it was thick- heavy with emotion, more personal and intimate. They took their time, building a slow rhythm, gently thrusting together as Draco pumped, whispering each other's names like prayers to an unnamed god. Finally they came together in unison as if it had been planned that way. Shuddering into each other's arms, they moaned each other's names and touched foreheads, an unspoken vow passed between them. They fell asleep, entangled into each other and at peace.

End Chapter Ten


	11. Chapter 11

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 11

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Draco awoke abruptly, wondering what had stirred him from his warm comfortable sleep curled up against Harry. Almost thinking that it had been his stomach rumbling, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a while, he was wholly ready to ignore it and snuggle in closer to Harry's nude form when he heard it again, the faint distant whistle of a train moving AWAY from the area.

"Oh, shite! Bugger! Harry! Harry wake up! NOW!"

"Nuh, it's not even mid-day. Go back to sleep, Draco."

"No, Harry, we have to get up. The train is here!"

Harry's eyes snapped open, and in a flash he was up, dashing around the room, picking up clothes and pulling them on. He rushed down the stairs from the Slytherin seventh year dorms and across its thankfully still-empty common room while hopping from one foot to the other pulling on his trousers. He finally managed to button and zip them as he raced up the main staircase in the entrance hall. If the pair of Ravenclaws he bowled over thought it odd to see Harry racing through them from the dungeons, zipping himself up with a strangely fluid cloak thrown over one shoulder, and his shoes in his hand, they didn't offer any indication. Apparently the first carriages had already arrived, as numerous students were filing into the main hall, but Harry didn't take the time to see if his friends were among them.

He got a stitch in his side as he raced through the seventh floor corridor, but didn't stop until he was safely in his own dormitory. He quickly jumped into his bed and grabbed the nearest reading material, only having enough time to open it to a random page midway through, and lay back when the door to the dormitory opened up and his fellow seventh-years burst through it.

"Hey, Harry! Thanks for the broomstick servicing kit. Now I won't have to borrow yours any mor... Harry?"

Harry was still panting, face flushed and sweat dripping down his forehead. He thought everyone would let his strange appearance go, but trust Seamus to stir up a commotion wherever possible. "Oi, Harry! Getting one last wank in while you have the room to yourself, eh? What's that you're reading, anyway? Have you seen the newest issue of Backdoor Sorceress?"

"Uhhh, he's reading a copy of 'Which Broomstick?'" Neville seemed almost hesitant in his answer as he bent closer to read the cover of the magazine in Harry's hand.

They were all silent for a while, before Dean finally spoke up. "Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'broomstick polishing,' doesn't it?"

Amid the boy's chuckles, Hermione bustled in, leaving a rush of words in her wake. "Oh, hi Harry. Thank you for the book, I didn't even know they had produced a revised edition. I already used an altered version of the new scorching charm to help Ron with the broomstick servicing kit you gave him. Apparently the polish hardens up faster if you apply heat. I helped him polish his broomstick last night."

The other Gryffindor boys nudged Ron, making suggestive noises. Ron's face reddened to match his hair.

"I also helped Ginny polish hers, and helped her trim her tail. Ron was nice enough to let her borrow the trimmers from his new kit for that. She'd lost hers while polishing her broom with Angelina last year. It hadn't been trimmed in a while, it was a bit bushy."

It was all too much for the Gryffindor boys, who were falling over each other, giggling like schoolgirls. Even Harry joined in, while Ron's look of anguish only intensified.

Misinterpreting the giggles, Hermione continued, "What? I know for a fact that Ron hasn't trimmed his in a year. He thinks it's bad luck to trim it during a quidditch season. You should see the tail of HIS broomstick, it's bushier than his sister's was."

"Herminone!"

"Well, all I'm saying is it creates drag. No wonder it takes you so long to achieve liftoff. Harry can get his up way faster than you, because he keeps his tail neatly trimmed."

"Herminone, for the love of all that is magical, please SHUT UP!" Ron's bellowed plea, and the roar of laughter from the seventh year Gryffindor boy's dormitory that followed it must have been audible from space. Harry was thankful for the diversion.

-o-o-o-o-

The new semester started in a whirlwind. If Harry thought the professors had cracked down on them in preparation for the OWLS, he had no idea how to describe their newest level of fervor. It seemed that the new focus of the entire set of seventh year lessons was fixated solely on NEWTS. Professors spoke about it so often, Seamus had taken to collecting bets on the number of times the word 'NEWT' would be spoken in each lesson. So far Ron was ahead in the prize pool.

With the triple fold increase in class work, things had been particularly precarious for Harry, who was having trouble focusing lately.

"Please do try to concentrate, Potter. This spell is not that difficult, it only requires focus."

McGonagall's words reverberated around his head as he tried, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, to turn his salamander into a fish. It was embarrassing, as he was the only student who had yet to successfully make the transfiguration. Even Neville had gotten it in the first half-hour. Harry tried to concentrate, but with everyone watching, now waiting for him to finish so they could all move on... It was changing an animal so closely tied to the element of fire to one so closely tied to the element of water that had Harry hung up, he tried to tell himself. Try as he might, he could only get his to issue steam from its nostrils.

"Very well, everyone. Come over here and continue to the second part of our lesson. Harry, remain and keep trying. Once your salamander has fully transformed, please join us."

If Harry were honest with himself, he would have conceded that elemental issues were not what was hanging him up. He had been having this trouble for a while now. Even spells he had mastered years ago were giving him trouble. He had lost it half way through a simple Wingardium Leviosa the other day and spilled the pitcher of water that he had been trying to retrieve from across the common room over Lavender Brown's head. It took some convincing that it hadn't been intentional. She swore that he had only done it to see her wet t-shirt sticking to her body as she ran up to her room for a change of clothes. This wasn't helped by Seamus cheering and thanking Harry for the show as she did so, calling after her that by the looks of it, that water had been pretty cold.

Harry spoke the incantation again, prodding the salamander with the tip of his wand, which only resulted in the tip of his wand glowing like a red-hot ember for a second before extinguishing in a single line of smoke drifting skyward.

-o-o-o-o-

With the start of the new term, and the preparations for NEWTS, quidditch practice, and the DA, Harry hardly had any time to spend with Draco. He saw him in his weekly occlumancy lessons with Dumbledore, which were turning out to be even more of a disaster with his current problems controlling his magic, and during Potions and Care of Magical Creatures, but that was hardly the alone time with Draco that he craved. They made it a point to spend their evenings together after their occlumancy lessons. Harry could use the lessons going late as an excuse for showing up late back to the common room those nights. Whenever possible, they made plans to meet later on other nights, but the lack of sleep was taking a toll on both boy's coursework, so they were forced to back off and stick with not much more than meeting up after occlumancy.

It was on such an evening in early February, as they made their way from Dumbledore's office to the room of requirement, that without preamble, Draco launched himself at Harry, unable to keep his lips from the Gryffindor's any longer. Harry found himself pushed backward into the statue of the one-eyed humpback witch. Too into the kiss to register the footsteps he heard coming down the hall, it was as they were almost upon them that Harry finally realized where they were. Breathlessly between kisses, Harry muttered, "Disendium." Since Draco was pressing him rather hard into the statue, it took only a slight shift of weight and Harry was falling backward onto the passage newly revealed behind the statue, and down the slide into the tunnel below with Draco on top of him. Draco, not much expecting this, took only enough time between his lustful assaults on Harry to be impressed with his boyfriend's knowledge of trivial, yet wholly useful things.

It was only after he had touched and tasted everything he felt the need to partake of, and both boys' breathing had returned to normal, that he finally bothered to pay enough attention to his surroundings to ask the question that had been plaguing his thoughts for a while now.

"How in Merlin's name do you know so much about Hogwarts?"

"Oh, well I have a map."

"A map? How did you get that?"

"Well, my dad was one of the authors."

"Your father wrote a map of Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, him, and Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew."

"What!"

"What?"

"Are you saying that your father helped to write a map of Hogwarts with our former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who also happens to be a werewolf, an escaped convict who was killed during an illegal break-in at the ministry, and a Death Eater?"

"Um... well, yeah, I guess. They were all friends at school."

Draco stared incredulously at his boyfriend. "Your father ran with an interesting crowd."

"I guess the same could be said of me. I'm currently sleeping with the son of a servant of the evil dark wizard who killed my parents, and has tried to kill me at LEAST six times, the first one when I was only an infant."

"I take your point."

"Way to stay under the radar, by the way. Why don't you just bend me over the breakfast table tomorrow morning and take me like you mean it?"

"Oh, I would VERY much like that."

Draco's answer brought color to Harry's cheeks, and he became painfully aware that they had yet to take that step in their sexual relationship. Harry very much wanted to as well, though he wasn't quite sure how it worked. The fact that the very prospect scared him to death didn't deter him from dreaming about it almost every night for the past fortnight, or fantasizing about it during Transfiguration instead of paying attention, and thus earning himself a detention.

"What's radar?"

"Er, sorry. What?" Draco's voice had shaken him out of his reverie.

"You said, 'Way to stay under the radar.' What does that mean?"

At Harry's explanation, Draco offered, "Oh, kind of like the echolocation that bats use to locate insect prey? Wow! Ingenious, really, what Muggles come up with to deal with the world without magic." He almost sounded like Arthur Weasley when he said that, which Harry had no intention of ever letting him know.

Instead he shared a private smile with himself while listening to Draco's story about almost colliding with a Muggle military helicopter on his toy broomstick as a child.

-o-o-o-o-

Harry constantly found it hard to keep his eyes from straying over to Draco in the Great Hall during meals. He always walked around as if floating on air, and could usually be found with a smile on his face, if only because he was reliving a conversation (or a lack of conversation) he had had with Draco earlier. Everything seemed better, colors brighter, tastes richer, and smells sweeter. He didn't even mind waking early one Saturday morning to work on preparations for potions NEWTS at Hermione's request, which Ron found totally ludicrous, and felt the need to point out, loudly, as they made their way to the common room to meet Hermione.

Harry gave her a big smile as a greeting when she joined them en route to the library. "You're in a very good mood, despite the early hour," she shot a glare at Ron, who was scowling at her, "I could swear you look like you're in lov..." Hermione stopped in her tracks and spun around on the spot, causing Harry to run into her.

"WHO IS IT?"

"Er, sorry. Who is what?" He hadn't really been paying attention, head too far in the clouds to take note of the mere mortals surrounding him on earth.

She dragged the boy away from the portrait hole, to the corner of the common room away from the early birds and seventh years that had already awoken. Ron followed, his curiosity piqued.

"You've been walking around with a permanent, unwavering smile on your face, you seem totally immune to the NEWT stress that the rest of us have been anguishing over, and you're so...happy all of the time. I even saw you smile at a bunch of Slytherins the other day. Either you're in love, or you've gone a bit off in the head."

At the mention of the word 'Slytherins' Harry started. "I-I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione."

"You know what, Harry? She's right. You're always humming and staring off into the distance, you're spending more time looking in the mirror in the morning..."

"You guys, it's nothing. I've just been happy lately."

"You've been more than happy, you've been at peace. You're glowing." Hermione obviously wasn't going to take 'it's nothing' for an answer, and Ron was emphatically nodding at her side.

Knowing defeat when he saw it, Harry finally gave in. "You're right, there is somebody. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I actually feel different-better. Like I'm the best version of myself when I'm with him..." Harry's eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his mouth, making a small pathetic gurgling noise. He closed his eyes and waited for the assault to begin.

"What's wrong?" his friends asked in unison.

"Did you hear that?"

"Of course we did, it sounded horribly romantic. So who is he?" Hermione had a gleeful expression on her face.

"He- You- You're okay with that? That it's a HE?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" It was Ron's turn to sound astounded.

Harry just gaped at him like a fish out of water. Hermione tried to explain to Ron that Muggles often have a problem with gay people.

"Why? That makes no sense. What does who you love have anything to do with- with anything? That makes about as much sense as hating someone because they prefer grape jam over marmalade." Ron's confusion only deepened, and Harry could kiss him for it.

Hermione smiled at her boyfriend, obviously in total agreement with Harry. She tried to explain the mentality behind Muggle homophobia, but it felt like explaining fire to a fish. She finally settled on comparing it to how the death eaters feel about Muggles and Muggle-borns.

"That's stupid, there have been plenty of gay people who have done great things, look at the drummer for the Weird Sisters, look at Madam Hooch, look at Dumbledore for goodness sake!"

"So, you're okay with, wait a second...Dumbledore is gay?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?"

A euphoric giddiness flitted through Harry as the realization struck him. His friends really didn't care. He pulled them toward himself, not caring about the weird looks they were getting from nearby Gryffindors for engaging in an early morning group-hug. Harry's relief from the weight he had never quite been conscious of bearing lifted off his shoulders, and he let it fly off with the barrage of words that tumbled from his mouth. "I was so worried. I grew up with Muggles, you know. I went to a Muggle primary school. 'Bender' and 'Nancy' were some of Dudley's gang's favorite insults while beating me up. I was worried... I thought..."

"Oh, Harry. I should have-I knew you grew up with Muggles just like I did. I should have told you the way wizards see it long before now. I thought you, of all people, would have gone looking it up. To imagine how long you've been keeping this bottled up inside!" Hermione was almost in tears.

"You knew, about…me?" He looked up at her in astonishment. Still not able to say it out loud.

"I always suspected you were."

"I thought you might be a few times." Ron added.

"I've never even had a crush on a guy before; I wasn't ready for this at all. It just hit me like a-"

"That's not true."

He looked up at her again, perplexed as ever, but it was Ron who answered this time. "Bill. You must have had a crush on Bill."

Realization dawned on Harry as Ron spoke.

"I saw the way you looked at him when you first met him. Even mum asked me about it afterward. She was fishing around to see how I felt about you, seemed excited at the prospect of having you as a potential son-in-law, but I told her I liked...," he grinned at Hermione before quickly looking down.

Hermione threw her arm around Ron's neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. "He was sending Oliver Wood appreciative glances too, a few times, especially when we ran into him at the Quidditch World Cup."

"Oh, yeah! And Cedric Diggory! Did you see the look on Harry's face, the way he was looking at him after the second task, couldn't keep his eyes of that wet body."

"I did no such thing. I was looking at Cho."

"I thought you were at first mate, but even when she walked away your eyes were fixed on HIM. You only turned away, blushing I might add, when he bent over to pick up the towel he had dropped."

"And remember that time Seamus brought those horrid magazines in? There were only three boys in all of Gryffindor who didn't swarm around him for the rest of the evening, and the other two are currently dating each other."

"No, Colin Creevy and Andrew Amsden broke up a while ago now."

"That's right! They broke up because of Colin's crush on Harry! Andrew is now seeing that Hufflepuff, Justin Flinch-Fletchly."

Harry's gaze bounced back and forth as they each took turns speaking, ignoring the fact that Harry was even there. The look of astonishment growing on his face by the minute, he looked like a spectator at the most shocking tennis match the world had ever seen.

Finally they broke out of their shared discussion about each of the incidents when they had suspected Harry to be gay. "So who is it?"

Bewildered, head still reeling from all they had said, Harry didn't even know what she was referring to any more.

"What?"

"Who's the guy?"

"Erm, I-I shouldn't say anything. We haven't even talked about telling others yet..." His happy bubble burst somewhat when he imagined their reaction to finding out it was Draco Malfoy who had Harry feeling like this. Somehow, he didn't think they would be so accepting of that, not to mention what he would get from the rest of the school were his relationship with the Slytherin to become known. "But if and when we decide to tell, you two will be the first to know, I promise."

They didn't look like they were too happy with that answer, but they let it go. He gave them each one last squeeze before they broke, and made their way to the library.

End Chapter Eleven


	12. Chapter 12

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 12

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Harry's talk with Hermione and Ron had given him a lot to think about. He didn't want to feel like his relationship with Draco was something he had to keep hidden, and now that he knew the wizarding world would have no problem accepting his sexuality, that particular roadblock was no longer an issue. Unfortunately, who he was and who Draco was were factors that he couldn't see the wizarding world accepting as easily. Despite his own wishes, Harry had to admit that the wizarding world looked to him as some sort of symbol of good. Not only was the job of killing (or being killed by) the most powerful dark sorcerer in ages foisted upon him, but he had been made into some sort of mascot in the process. Those on his own side would probably not forgive him for his feelings toward the Slytherin. Draco, the only son and heir of one of the most vocal and politically and financially powerful supporters of said dark sorcerer, would probably never be seen as an acceptable love interest for the prince of light.

Draco was even worse off. Most people assumed that he shared his father's feelings about this particular war. Some even knew that he was, at least technically, a death eater. He would face, at best mere suspicion, and at worse open hostility from the side of light. His very connection to Harry would also make him a prime target for the forces of dark, either as a means to hurt Harry, or in retaliation for his defecting. Since Draco had been born and raised in a life steeped in the ideals that Voldemort stood for, the Dark Lord's followers, many of them related by blood to Draco, would probably take his declared allegiance to Dumbledore's side, or even his relationship with its mascot, as a personal insult.

No, the world couldn't know about the relationship. But Harry's friends had always been supportive of him, and lying to THEM about something as important to him as his relationship with Draco was harder for the Gryffindor than not telling the wizarding world at large. As he worked with his fellow Gryffindors in the library, he decided that he needed to talk to Draco about the possibility of telling his best friends about their relationship.

During dinner that evening Harry signaled Draco from across the great hall, and told his friends to go on without him when they were done eating. When Draco got up to leave, Crabbe and Goyle got up too. Though they had not really spoken with him for months, Harry realized that that evening they had been talking to Draco throughout the whole meal. On his way past where the Gryffindor sat, Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head. Harry almost gave up hope of talking to Draco that evening, but in a flash decision, Harry got up from his table and ran toward the door out of the great hall. Meeting "by chance" in the narrow doorway, Harry bumped into Draco quite hard on his way out of the room.

Looking almost amused, Draco yelled at the Gryffindor, "Watch were you're going, Potter!"

"I wouldn't have bumped into you if you weren't moving so slow, Malfoy. Can you even get to where you're going in TWO HOURS walking at that rate?"

Draco looked down at his watch and nodded almost imperceptibly before stalking away. Confident that Draco had gotten the point, Harry made his way up to the room of requirement to wait for his boyfriend to show.

-o-o-o-o-

An hour and 45 minutes later, Harry heard someone opening the door to the room of requirement and looked up from the homework he had brought with him to work on while he waited. In the doorway stood Draco, who looked tired beyond belief.

"Why were Crabbe and Goyle hanging off of you like kites at dinner?"

"Gods, don't get me started! Crabbe is going to be marked next month, and he wanted to know all about my experience with it. Seems they think I stopped talking to them after my marking because I thought I was too good for them now that I had joined The Dark Lord's 'grown up' club, and now that he's getting marked they think we can be thick as thieves again."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, they wanted to see my mark. I only got out of it by saying that if someone else in the great hall saw it I would be kicked out of school, AND I only got away from them just now by saying I had to go study for Arithmancy. I only have a half hour until I have to go back, since the library is just now closing. If they go to the library searching for me, our cover might be blown. Good form, by the way. They didn't suspect a thing, though I had a time not laughing."

"I thought you might like that one," Harry answered with a grin.

"So what couldn't wait for Monday?" Draco asked suggestively as he slipped onto the couch with Harry.

"Well, speaking of friends, I have a question for you."

Draco got a wary expression on his face, but answered, "Go on."

"I know the reasons we need to keep our relationship a secret-"

"The multitude of reasons."

"Yes. But do you think it possible that we tell a few people, a SELECT group of people who would promise not to let anyone else know?"

"Let me guess, Granger and Weasley?"

"Well, yes."

"Do you think that a good idea, Harry? Weasley hates me, you know."

"He doesn't hate you."

At Draco's look, Harry had to concede, "Okay, I know he hates you now, but he doesn't feel any different about you than I did not even half a year ago."

"That's not exactly true."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. You've always had bigger fish to fry, as it were. With the Dark Lord after you since before you were born, the death of your parents and the way those Muggles treated you growing up, the little spats between you and me never really amounted to much in the grand scheme of things. Weasley has never had to face as much as you, our fights probably affected him more than they ever affected you."

"Ron was right there fighting with me at the Ministry last year, and in fifth year."

"Yes, but his experience of real evil has always been contingent on his connection to you. His fights with me were always more personal. I made them personal, with his family, with Granger…"

Harry could see where Draco was coming from. Draco had always gotten under Ron's skin way easier than he had Harry's or Hermione's.

"Which is why you need to be there."

"Are you crazy? I don't want to be on the same continent as Weasley when he finds out!"

"Are you scared of Ron?" Harry asked teasingly. Which was why Draco's response was so surprising.

"You're damned right, I am. Like you said, he has fought, and survived, in battles with Death Eaters, AND his temper is as fiery as his hair."

Harry couldn't stop grinning.

"What?"

"You can't imagine how pleased he'd be to hear you say that YOU are intimidated by HIM."

"Yes, well…Self preservation and all."

"Still, for them to accept you, they need to know you like I do, and I think they need to hear it from you."

"This means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"It does mean a lot-THEY mean a lot."

Draco let out a resigned sigh.

"Okay, lets tell them, but if I end up permanently disfigured because of this, I place full responsibility on you."

A bubble of happiness welled up within Harry, and he launched himself at the Slytherin. Pushing the other boy back into the couch as he climbed atop him, their lips met in a deep passionate kiss. Draco was everything Harry could possibly want, and his understanding and willingness to do this for Harry meant more than the Slytherin could ever fully understand. Harry knew for sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the other boy. It was as this realization struck him that Harry pulled back and looked Draco in the eye. The other boy was panting and flushed, and it was the most beautiful image Harry had ever seen.

"Draco, have you ever, you know?"

"You mean had sex?"

"Yes."

"No."

"What?" Harry couldn't believe it.

"I never did. I never really had feelings for either of my other boyfriends, that's something…I don't know. It was too intimate to share with them."

"Oh," Harry sat back on the couch. "Have you ever wanted to?"

"Well, like I said, not with them. But with the right person…"

"Oh." Harry looked down at his hands, which were cold and sweating.

"Why? Have you ever..?'

"You know I've never been with anyone else before, Draco"

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Uhm," -Harry sounded a bit breathless as he answered- "with the right person." He looked up into the other boy's face, and they were each struck by the intensity of the other's eyes.

"Do you know how it works?"

"Yes, well, kind of."

"How would you want…?"

A surge of Gryffindor fearlessness shot through Harry, and he answered the other boy's half-asked question more boldly than he felt. "I want you inside of me."

Draco's breath visibly hitched, which Harry took as a good sign. His pupils also dilated to the point that there was only a small silver sliver around the edges. "I know you have to go now, but will you meet me here tomorrow night, at midnight?"

As the Slytherin nodded, at a loss for words, Harry climbed back atop him and kissed him, trying to convey everything he felt without having to say it out loud.

-o-o-o-o-

Harry woke up nervous, and it just got worse throughout the day. He only saw Draco once, which was during lunch. The Slytherin was joking loudly with his housemates, and didn't even seem to acknowledge Harry's presence. Harry himself couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of Draco.

He went to the library after lunch, to see if he could find anything that would help him ease his nerves. It surprised him that there were a small number of books about gay wizards, one even specifically about sex. He grabbed a stack of these books and found a small study room at the back of the library. He didn't fancy checking them out and having to read them in the common room, and didn't want Madam Pince hovering over his shoulder while he read in the main library.

He flipped through a short book about gay wizards and witches throughout history, Dumbledore was, in fact, mentioned in the last section of the book entitled Gay Wizards of This Century. Then Harry opened the book he was really anxious to read. Harry really didn't know what to expect from the book, with a title like A Wizard's Guide to Gay Sex. There were a few moving images peppered throughout the book, which showed men having sex in various positions. Harry looked at these images very carefully, trying and failing to keep his breathing at a normal pace. Most of the book contained recipes for lubrication potions, muscle relaxing charms, and pages and pages of how-to advice. There was even a whole chapter for first timers, which Harry read through multiple times, just to make sure he hadn't missed anything important. Harry finally understood Hermione's love of researching a topic to death. He felt a little calmer about the whole thing once he had read A Wizard's Guide to Gay Sex from cover to cover, twice.

After dinner, in the common room, Harry found himself sitting in a chair in front of the fire. He checked his watch periodically, only to find that it was only a few minutes past the last time he checked. Marveling at how slowly time seems to travel when you want it to speed up, he wasn't very responsive when his house mates tried to engage him in conversation.

"Harry, do you want to play a game of Wizard's Chess with me?"

"Uh, what? Oh, er no."

"Okay, what about exploding snap?"

"Um, not right now, Ron."

"When are we going to get another chance? Did you see the study schedules that Hermione wrote up for us? This is our last day off for quite some time."

"Alright, exploding snap, then."

"Deal me in too," Dean piped in from across the common room.

"Me three," Seamus added as well.

The other Gryffindor boys got up and pulled chairs over to the table that Ron and Harry sat around. Harry was grateful for the presence of the other boys, which masked the fact that Harry wasn't very talkative. Of course, with his mind not really on the game, he wasn't responding as quickly as he should have been, and the top card kept exploding when it was his turn. When Harry was behind by an obscene amount of points, Neville came through the portrait hole and expressed an interest in joining the game. Harry let Neville take his seat, using his losing streak as an excuse to call it a night. Ron was enjoying the game so much, Harry didn't feel guilty leaving him behind.

Harry went up to his dormitory room and changed into his pyjamas, then pulled the curtains around his bed, waiting. After a while, his dorm mates came up, one by one, to get ready for bed. Finally, when all of the lights had been put out and the soft snores of his fellow Gryffindors filled the room, Harry crept out of bed, tugging the invisibility cloak out from under his pillow and around his shoulders as he made his way down to the common room.

It was a warm night, but Harry couldn't seem to stop shivering as he made his way to the prefect's bathroom. Upon entering, he waved his wand and cast a charm around the room to alert him of ghosts in the vicinity, finally getting it right on his third try. He certainly didn't want Moaning Myrtle as an audience for this. Running a bath, he stripped off his pyjamas and stepped into the foam filled tub. Only when the scalding hot water had engulfed him did he seem to be able to stop the trembling that had plagued him on his way down. He cleaned himself thoroughly, exploring himself as he did so, trying to train his tight muscles to accept something bigger than a single finger. He was tempted to try a relaxing charm on himself, but the thought of performing magic on his person with the way his magic had been misfiring changed his mind on that.

The water in the magical tub never cooled, even though Harry took the better part of an hour to bathe. Nearing midnight, Harry was struck with nervousness once again as he drained the tub quickly, and elected to just wrap his dressing gown around his again trembling muscles. Banishing his pyjamas to his dorm, he re-wrapped the invisibility cloak around his body as he made his way to the room of requirement.

-o-o-o-o-

Draco could feel the Gryffindor's eyes on him throughout lunch, and it was all he could do to keep from glancing at the other boy. He found that when he held his knife a certain way, he could just make out the Gryffindor's reflection occasionally between the elbows of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs behind him without alerting anyone to what he was doing. Every time he caught sight of that deliciously tousled black mop, his heart would jump back into his throat.

That night he made it up to the room of requirement early, but then cursed himself for this as he fidgeted and paced, waiting for Harry's arrival. Midnight came and went, and no Harry arrived. Fearing the Gryffindor had chickened out (a very UNGryffindor thing to do), Draco become agitated. Finally, a five past midnight Draco heard the door open behind him. Spinning quickly to complain to the Gryffindor, he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Harry. The Gryffindor's still wet hair was as messy as always, but there seemed to be a method to its randomness. It looked stylishly tousled instead of messily so. The dark blue dressing gown and slippers didn't mar the fact that Harry looked downright edible.

Their eyes locked from across the room as Harry entered. Making a bee-line to each other, they met halfway in a kiss. They stood there, kissing, until Draco's exploring hands stopped and he stepped back with a gasp. He hadn't known the Gryffindor was nude beneath his dressing gown. Harry let the gown fall down behind his shoulders, unashamed, and land in a pool of soft woolen fabric around his feet before he moved forward again, and began to unbutton the Slytherin's shirt. Draco made no move to help him, instead busying his hands with touching every bit of Harry he could reach.

It was only as Harry had removed the last of his clothes that Draco took note of how chilly the room was, and that the small couch near the fire wouldn't be big enough for what he had in mind. He looked over at the fire and started.

"I've never noticed those there before."

Harry looked away from the spot where he had been sucking on the Slytherin's neck, and toward the fire, and gasped. There, in front of the couch, lay a mass of furs on the floor. The edges of each pelt overlapped, creating a large, and very soft looking patchwork cushion of black, white, and silver just in front of the warm flickering fire.

"They must be new." He grabbed the Slytherin's hands, walking backwards toward the fire and pulling him along with. As they reached the furs, Harry sat on the edge of them and exclaimed, "Oh, wow! This is really soft."

Draco reached down and felt the fur himself. "These are Three-Horned Whooly Dragon Hides. They are born with this fur, but at five years of age they totally shed their skin and reveal the armour-hard scales underneath. This breed of dragon lives only in Antarctica, and their pelts are very rare and expensive. You have to build a trusting relationship with the dragon before it'll let you have its old pelt."

"I can see why, they're heavenly."

Draco watched as the boy lay out before him, running his hands up and down around him to feel the fur. The seeming innocent motion, the same motion that every child making a snow angel will recreate with their arms, sent a surprising jolt right through Draco's system, as he was again reminded of what they were about to do. He went to his bag to dig out the unopened jar of lubrication he had bought years ago in Knockturn Alley, and brought it back with him to the furs.

He lay down half beside and half on top of the other boy, relishing both the bodily contact with Harry, and the sensual pleasure of the furs under them. They playfully rolled over each other, each trying to end up on bottom while they kissed, but after a while, the furs lay forgotten (but not unappreciated), as the boys became more focused on each other. When Draco's head was fully swimming in arousal, Harry got up on his knees and pulled Draco up with him, kissing him one last time before turning around to face the fire, and dropping back down onto his hands

Draco was struck by the way Harry knelt, on hands and knees in front of him, body offered up in this admittedly undignified position. That a wizard so powerful, probably the most powerful wizard Hogwarts had seen in millennia, would so willingly offer himself up like this, to allow himself to be so vulnerable, struck a chord deep within Draco. Harry looked unbelievably beautiful like this, and Draco never wanted to let him go.

Draco dipped his fingers into the jar of lubrication, coating them liberally, before slowly pushing a finger into the Gryffindor. Draco felt him tense, before relaxing around the slick digit. He leaned forward, kissing the small of the Gryffindor's back as he slowly moved his finger, feeling Harry relax little by little. He rested his upper body on Harry's back, closing his eyes and listening to the Gryffindor's breathing as he prepared the other boy, his free arm soothingly caressing the muscles of Harry's back and neck, fingers running through that still-wet messy hair. When he felt ready, Draco pulled his finger back some, and pushed another in alongside it. Harry's breathing was peppered with grunts and moans as his body adjusted to this welcomed invasion. Remembering something he had read in an old copy of Swish and Flick, the gay wizards magazine he had borrowed from his uncle, Draco curled his fingers forward and down.

"OhAAAaggghhhhH!" Harry half moaned-half screamed. Finding the same spot again, Draco pressed, flicked, and rubbed until Harry was incoherently pleading with him, his words unintelligible but his tone of voice clearly saying, "Now!"

He sat back, slicking the extra lube on his hand over his already rock-hard cock, taking in the sight of the proud Gryffindor laid out before him. Harry was stretched, panting, willing, and eager, and finally the full force of what was about to happen hit Draco. He didn't want to hurt Harry, not for anything in the world. "I've never done this before."

"Neither. Have. I," the black haired boy said between pants.

Draco pulled away, and the Gryffindor looked uncertainly back over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Come here."

Turning, the Gryffindor crawled over, and straightened himself up on his knees, meeting Draco on level in a passionate kiss as they knelt on the floor softened with the magically conjured furs. Both boys pulled hungrily at each other's bodies, close enough to slide across each other with slick, glistening sweat, but still not close enough. Draco pulled away again and lay back on the furs, pulling Harry's hand to follow. "Be careful, go slow."

The Gryffindor seemed to realize what Draco had in mind, and for once was too far gone to even register a hint of that characteristic blush that always colored his cheeks. He threw a leg over Draco's prone body, as Draco mused that he preferred it this way. Not just that Harry could control the pace, but that every expression that traversed the Gryffindor's face could be drunk in by the Slytherin.

Harry leaned down to steal a quick kiss before raising himself up on his haunches and leisurely spearing himself on the Slytherin's hard member. Draco watched as Harry's beautifully sculpted inner thigh muscles, trained to hold the Gryffindor's body on a broomstick at high speeds, strained to support the boy's weight as he slowly, methodically, achingly, steadily, lowered himself down around the Slytherin. A tumult of emotions painted across his expressive face at being so finally stretched, filled, and possessed.

He slowed at one point, head thrown back, panting. He pushed past a final barrier, and sobbed with relief as he took Draco in completely. His fingers dug almost too painfully into the Slytherin's chest as Harry's body adjusted to the wanted, to the needed invasion. He steadied himself there, eyes unfocused and chest heaving, until Draco's hand, smoothing tenderly up the curve of his thigh and around his arse, broke through his revelry.

The boys locked eyes with fierce intensity, both panting as if they had run a marathon, and Harry began to slowly rock his hips forward and back at a slow steady pace. His hands remained spread on Draco's sweat-slicked chest, holding him steady as he rocked the Slytherin in and out of himself.

Draco reached down, pumping Harry to the rhythm that Harry himself created. Pulling firmly down, his hand still slicked with the lube he had used on Harry and then himself, he squeezed his way up, running a thumb slickly over the head of Harry's shaft before pumping down again. Agonizingly slow, brutally perfect, their breathing halted and pitched almost as one.

Harry's pace sped, rocking gave way to circular grinding, and when that wasn't enough, he began lifting himself up, and slamming himself back down against the other boy. Finding that spot Draco had found earlier, Harry repeatedly rocked himself forward and down, before raising himself up so he could feel that mini explosion again sending hot tendrils through every inch of his body on his way back down.

All the while, Draco's hands worshippingly caressed every curve, dip, and angle of the other boy he could reach. The right one stayed on that hard member, mercilessly pumping in time, the other slid over every bit of Harry's left side it could reach, caressing the muscled thigh, mapping the dip of the waist, sliding across the plain of his chest, and tenderly making a path up Harry's neck, across his sweaty brow, down the velvety skin of his closed eyelids, and over his lips parted in a silent, panting moan. Harry began to grind down even harder, as if he couldn't get enough of the Slytherin inside him, and Draco finally obliged by thrusting his hips up to meet the Gryffindor every time. Their pace steadily increased until they reached a perfect cadence, hot, fast, and sturdy. They stayed there for as long as possible, balancing on the edge of the precipice, not knowing what lie at the bottom of the abyss before them.

Finally, Harry's back arched, his head thrown back, yelling out Draco's name as he exploded over the other boy's hand and stomach. His muscles quivered and his arse rhythmically clenched around Draco's throbbing cock, forcefully drawing out the Slytherin's orgasm, milking him dry, and hungrily, greedily drawing his seed deeper within himself. Finally, when the last twitches had run his body, he collapsed forward, resting his head on the Slytherin's chest as Draco's slowly softening cock remained lodged deep within him. He faded away, Draco's heartbeat in his ear, violently thumping in time with his own.

End Chapter Twelve

A/N: This is my first time ever writing a scene like this, Detailed feedback would be heavenly.


	13. The Unsettling Discovery aka Chapter 13

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 13

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

The sun shone warm across Draco's face as he curled up closer against the warm body in his bed. Only after musing on how wonderful it felt to wake up in such a state did he realise that a couple of things weren't right. First, there should be no sun shining on him in the dungeons, and second, there should be no warm body in his bed with him.

He opened his eyes to see the messy black mop that was the back of Harry's head in front of him, and his memories of the night before came flooding back to him. He snaked his arms around the boy to pull him closer, mentally reliving some of his favourite moments. The Slytherin had become lost in the memory of Harry's skin flushed, back arched, and head thrown back in wild abandon as he called out Draco's name when the boy in question began to stir. Harry moved and stretched a bit, before a firm organ pressing into his thigh made him pause.

"God, Draco." He pressed his body back into the other boy, revelling in the full-body contact. "What time is it?"

Draco pulled away, and reached over to his trousers, which still lay where they had fallen the night before. Checking his pocket watch, his face fell as he released that they only had three quarters of an hour before their first class was to start. As he said so, though, Harry turned over with a smile on his face.

"Well, we could go now, and get ready in time to get some breakfast, OR we could stay here a bit longer."

Harry's smile spread to Draco's face as he crawled back onto the soft furs.

"So, I was thinking we could meet back here tonight, and that I could bring Ron and Hermione."

Draco paused. "So soon? But-Don't you think we need more time to prepare? You know, forge some armour and perhaps prepare a new identity in case I need to go into hiding?"

"Oh, it'll be fine. You're worrying over nothing," Harry reassured, kissing his way from Draco's worried brow, and momentarily across his softening lips, before moving in a line down to the other boy's throat.

Draco meant to offer some sort of further protest, but the thought died somewhere on the way from his brain to his vocal cords as the Gryffindor continued his oral exploration of his body. His brain working only just enough to clue him in on the fact that this was a deliberate ploy to get Draco to give in, he wasn't the least bit surprised when a bigger portion of his mind interjected, 'Who cares?'

Finally, when not another moment could be spared, both boys raced out of the room, Harry glad for the invisibility cloak as he didn't have anything to wear besides the hand-me-down bathrobe from his cousin, and a pair of matching fuzzy slippers.

The rushed feeling as the boys raced to their dormitories to dress before their first class only intensified throughout the day. During classes, teachers preached about NEWTS with renewed fervour, and their urgency was contagious. The seventh years were shunted from class to class, with nary a moment to catch their breath in between. It seemed that the first lecture would end only as they entered the next classroom, though Harry could swear that the professors weren't actually following them through the halls between classes, it must just have been the echo of the frantic lectures in the students' minds as they rushed about. Even lunch was a blur, and Harry found himself searching his memory during dinner to assure himself that they had received a lunch break at all.

After dinner, exhausted, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower to talk to Ron and Hermione. He hadn't had a chance to ask them to come with him to the room of requirement, and now that he thought about it, he wondered if he could even recall seeing them during the day, despite sharing most of their classes together. Upon reaching the common room, he couldn't find them anywhere. Ron wasn't in their dorms, and Dean and Seamus hadn't seen Ron or Hermione since dinner. Back in the common room, a third year he asked thought she remembered seeing them head to the library. He decided to wait for them to show, knowing that with the day they had had, Ron wouldn't tolerate a very long study session without complaint.

Harry kept his eye on the time. But the library closing time came and went, and still Ron and Hermione didn't show. He was about to head up to his dorms to check the Marauder's Map when Lavender came down from the girl's dorms and barged out of the portrait hole, loudly complaining that Hermione was in snit about studying, and had kicked her out of their room for "breathing too loudly." If Hermione was in her dorm, where was Ron?

Before he could decided what to do next, a scream from the girl's dorms cut through the soft murmur of voices in the common room, leaving only a shocked silence in its wake. The screaming voice had been Hermione's, but the silence that now echoed in his ears was worse than the blood curdling scream that had preceded it. Knowing Hermione, Harry couldn't tell if this was the result of study burn-out, or a life-threatening situation.

Looking around the common room, Harry was shocked to find that, of the ten or so Gryffindors lounging around on chairs, not one was female. No one would be able to go upstairs and check what was wrong. When another scream shot through the air, Harry made a split-second decision. He raced to the far wall of the common room, and charged toward the entrance to the girls' tower. He had always been the fastest of all his friends, and he hoped that his momentum would push him far enough up the stairs before they turned into a steep slide that he could somehow make it up to the seventh year dorms. He would latch on to the rough-hewn tower walls with his fingertips and climb up like a lizard if necessary. Fortunately for Harry, the stairs below him never turned into a slide. Wondering if Hogwarts made an exception to the 'No Boys Allowed in the Girls Rooms' rule in emergency situations, he continued his charge all the way up to the top, just in case, and barged through the door, not wanting to take his chances.

The scene that greeted him within froze his insides. Hermione stood with her wand pointing to the far side of the room, where green fog slowly spilled over the ledge of an open window. By reflex alone, Harry had his own wand out before his brain really registered anything about the scene. He eased along the wall toward Hermione, eyes fixed on the window.

"They're vampires!" she cried. "One of them has just got Parvati!"

Hermione summoned a book from one of the beds, and transfigured it into a ring of garlic cloves, which she placed around her neck. Harry watched in horror as the fog flowing over the windowsill pooled on the floor just inside the room, and began slowly forming an upright stack, taking the general shape of a head and shoulders. Knowing that there was nothing he could do while the vampire was in vapour form, he waited. Finally, the fog began to condense and take on a more solid form, and Harry raised his wand, taking a step forward, waiting to cast at the right time. The figure braced itself, ready to pounce, and Harry spoke the strongest vampire repelling incantation he knew. A spark shot pathetically out of the end of his wand with a weak pop, but nothing happened. A wicked grin spread across the face of the vampire, who locked eyes on Harry, a hungry look in his eyes. Harry tried a simple shielding charm, which also dribbled uselessly from the tip of his wand.

"Oh no, not now!" He slammed his free hand against his wand, as if attempting to jar some loose wires back into place. Before Harry could respond, the vampire moved with lightning-fast speed, and pulled the wand out of Harry's hand. Harry watched, as if in slow motion, as the vampire snapped the wand in two, and held the pieces out on front of him. He took his predatory eyes off of Harry only momentarily as he looked down at the splintery pieces, before they burst into flames where they sat. The wicked grin never wavering from his face, he moved his seductive eyes back to Harry, looking him up and down and licking his lips. Frozen in shock, Harry watched as the ashes of his once-wand tipped off the edge of the Vampire's hand, where they fell slowly to the floor like a pile of soft grey feathers. Harry couldn't move to defend himself further.

He felt a pull at his back, and heard Hermione shout a shielding charm behind him as he was pulled bodily from the room. It was only once she had pulled him down the stairs and into the common room that his mind registered what had just happened. He stared blindly at his now-empty wand hand as Hermione shunted everyone in the common room to the centre of the room, where she magically pulled all of the furniture to form a ring around them.

Transfiguring all of the furniture into giant cloves of garlic, she yelled, "Harry, help me, please! Go up the stairs and make sure no one is left in the rooms."

Finally shaken out of his stupor, he ran up through the boys' tower, sending any stragglers down to the common room, then did the same in the girls' tower, marvelling that the stairs still allowed him to pass.

On his way back down with three first-years, a vampire burst out of one of the rooms and grabbed the smallest child. Harry found himself uselessly raising his hand, seemingly forgetting the very traumatic memory of his wand being destroyed from his mind. He looked down at his empty, useless hand for the second time that night, but didn't fall into shock again.

"Bugger it!" he vented, as he pushed the vampire backward into the room with his bare hands, simultaneously lifting the smallest first year out of his grasp, and pulling the bigger two first years faster down the stairs with him. Once they made it safely into the centre of the room he found Hermione teaching the older students the incantation to transfigure something into garlic. Those who could manage were summoning every loose article they could from around the room and turning them into more rings woven out of garlic, passing them around to those who couldn't do the spell. Harry felt helpless as a third year dropped a ring of garlic down around his neck, which spurred him into action. He may not be able to do any magic, but he sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and let himself become a victim.

"Where's Ron?" he asked Hermione.

"He said he needed a break after today; he was headed down to fly around the pitch last I saw him. It's been dark for an hour now; I expected him back by now."

"We need to go look for him, and find help." He looked around. Everyone but himself had their wand out. "Okay, what years have covered vampires in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"We have-" one student offered. "-fifth year."

"So have the fourth," another interjected.

"Okay, where are our fourth years?" Three students raised their hands. "Fifth?" One hand went up. "Sixth?" Two more were raised. Harry and Hermione were the only seventh years there.

"Fourth years and below stay here. Don't let anyone leave the circle of garlic." He looked at the students that had raised their hands, who nodded. He then turned to the fifth and sixth years. "Everyone else, go look for McGonagall or Dumbledore. Stay in groups of four or more. Send anyone younger back to the common room, even the non-Gryffindors. Give them the password if they need it, just keep them safe." The older students nodded.

"Hermione, let's go look for Ron."

She nodded and the upper years made their way out of the portrait hole.

-o-o-o-o-

It was approaching nine o'clock, so Draco decided that he should start making his way up to the room of requirement to meet his fate. Since dinner he had been going over in his head what he should say. How do you get someone who you have tortured for the past seven years to move past the animosity and accept you into their circle of friends? He knew that Harry and he would have enough challenges to face when people found out about their relationship. Having allies would make it all much more bearable. He was afraid Harry's friends wouldn't be able to move past what he had done. He could only hang on to the hope that if Harry had, his friends might be able to as well.

As he emerged from the passage to the dungeons, he saw Ron walking ahead of him, broom thrown over his shoulder. The Gryffindor was almost at the foot of the stairs. Draco was about to call out to him when he realised that Harry and Hermione weren't with him. Not knowing if he should risk making his presence known, he hesitated. Deciding that he would bite the bullet, he was about to call Ron's name when a crashing sound filled the entrance hall. He turned his head to see shards of glass falling from the giant stained-glass window above the front doors to the stone floor below.

"Nice going Malfoy. What did you do now?"

He looked back to the foot of the stairs and saw that Ron had also turned at the noise, and obviously thought Draco had broken the window.

"I didn't do that." He asserted as he walked passed Ron, making his way up the stairs. He could hear the Gryffindor climbing the stairs behind him.

"The hell you didn't, Malfoy. There's no one else here."

Draco spun on the step to face the Gryffindor, glad that they were on a stairway so that the normally very tall boy was actually having to look up to meet the Slytherin's eye. He was about to say something in return when some movement from the newly broken window caught his eye.

With barely enough time to pull his wand out, he cast a severing charm at the figure that was swooping down behind Ron. The vampire was stopped in her progress with a deep slash across her chest. She fell back toward the door, but her gash began to heal immediately, and Draco could tell she would be charging at them momentarily.

Ron, too, pulled his wand out, but pointed it at Draco. "Wow, you missed me. Care to try again, now that I know it's coming? I'm surprised you didn't try to get me when my back was turned, seems more your style, from what I remember."

"Stand aside, Ron."

The use of his given name by Draco Malfoy shocked him so much that he didn't even register the rest of the command. He would have expected a wittier retort, or at least name calling. Finally, a hissing noise behind him caught his attention, and he spun around to see a vampire laying on the floor by the main door, the gash across her chest almost fully healed. He quickly stumbled back to stand behind Draco. "Did you just call me Ron?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I did. Now are you going to help me, or just stand there and watch your best friend's boyfriend being turned into a vampire?"

"What?" Ron was pretty sure he was stuck in some bizarre nightmare.

-o-o-o-o-

As they raced down the corridor outside of Gryffindor tower, Harry asked Hermione to summon the Marauder's Map from his room. Once it soared into her waiting arms they scanned it, Hermione looking for any sign of Ron, Harry looking for Draco's name. At the same time they each found what they were looking for, saying simultaneously, "He's in the Entrance Hall!"

They raced as fast as they could, painfully trying to suck in enough oxygen as they flew down staircase after staircase.

They reach the top of the stairs to see Draco and Ron trying to fight off a vampire at its base. More fog was collecting into a mass in the broken window. They watched as Ron was unceremoniously tossed aside like a rag doll. Hermione flew quickly down to his side, but Harry's eyes remained focused on Draco. He watched, as if in slow motion, as Draco was lifted up by the vampire, and dragged up to the window, whose glass lay in multicoloured shards on the stone below.

The fog already collecting in the window, and seeing Draco being pulled away from him brought back feelings from the nightmare that he had been having for months, and the sense of helplessness that had plagued him in his nightmare returned, burying Harry in its intensity. He had no wand, and no way to get his Draco back to him.

He couldn't let this happen. Without thinking of the consequences, or the fact that Draco and the vampire were way out of his reach, Harry sprinted down the stairs, screaming "Noooooo!" so violently that he was sure his throat had just torn. The vampire released Draco and flew backwards into the wall with such force that a crack appeared in the stone from floor to ceiling, but Harry didn't even notice, focused as he was on Draco's body, falling heavily toward the floor. Harry reached out for him, helplessly wishing he were close enough to attempt to break the Slytherin's fall, when miraculously, the boy's trajectory slowed. He landed softly on his feet in front of Harry who, without thinking, reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, planting a deep kiss on his shocked mouth.

Finally as he pulled his face away from those startled lips, Harry looked over to see Hermione kneeling beside Ron, who was lying half-prone on the floor but propping himself up on his arms. They wore identical shocked expressions on their faces as they gaped at Harry and Draco. Harry looked back at Draco, whose face didn't look much different than his friends' faces. In a flurry of sound and movement, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick came charging down the stairs. Harry heard curses thrown and people scrambling, but remained frozen, Draco held tightly in his arms, until finally, something caught his attention.

"Who killed this vampire?" Dumbledore had incapacitated the remaining vampire, and it now sat in the middle of the entrance hall, trapped in a magical bubble. Harry released Draco, and looked at the wall beside the main entrance, where a vampire's body lay in a heap near the base, her head laying several feet away in the corner, eyes staring out glassily at nothing in particular. It was the same vampire who had tried to take Draco.

Harry shrugged, starting to say "I don't kno-" but his sentence died in his throat when he looked around and saw Draco standing next to Hermione and Ron, who were in the same position they were in when he last looked at them. All three of them with their hands pointing at Harry.

-o-o-o-o-

The students had again been herded into the Great Hall to sleep while the professors swept the school to make sure all threat had been eliminated. Harry and Draco had grabbed their sleeping bags and pulled them to lie next to Ron and Hermione, but none of them had spoken to each other. Finally, the sun had risen, and Dumbledore had made an announcement that five students had been turned by the vampires, and that they had been sent to St. Mungos for treatment and counselling. Parvati was among them. Classes had been cancelled for the remainder of the day, but not a single student was happy at the news.

Having not gotten much sleep the night before, Harry found himself summoned quite early to the headmaster's office. He stalled outside the door, taking a few deep breaths, delaying what was to come as long as he could, before lifting his arm and knocking.

"Come in." Dumbledore didn't sound upset.

Harry was shocked to find Draco already sitting in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. He smiled tiredly up at Harry as Harry sat in the seat next to him.

"Would you like some tea, Harry? You look like you could use a bit of caffeine."

Harry nodded, "Thank you, professor."

The headmaster conjured a cup, and passed it to Harry, who noticed that Draco already held an identical cup in his hands.

"Well, my boys, the vampires who were captured by the Ravenclaws and myself last night have been interrogated. They were sent by Voldemort, who recruited them from a fringe group of vampires that resent the legislation against the feeding off of humans. He wanted them to cause a stir at Hogwarts. They were instructed to feed off of, and turn, everyone they could, then leave the fledgling vampires tied to the stakes they erected on the grounds to burn when the sun came up. Vampire delegates have already met with ministry officials, to denounce the attack on Hogwarts, and to discuss the killing of a vampire, which is forbidden by paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans."

"I didn't kill it!"

"Harry, it's quite alright. The guidelines clearly state that killing is justifiable in self-defence."

"I'm sure it is, sir. But I didn't do anything. I couldn't have."

"Harry, could you please summon my telescope for me?" The headmaster pointed up to a small brass telescope that sat high on a shelf to the right.

"I can't sir. My Wand-"

"Why don't you try?"

Thinking this whole demonstration quite pointless, Harry doubtfully held his hand up, as if it held an invisible wand, and said, "Accio telescope." The telescope remained perfectly undisturbed. Harry felt ridiculous.

"Concentrate, Harry."

Harry sighed, but did as he was told. He shifted his hand slightly, pointing his first two fingers at the telescope and concentrating on it. It still remained undisturbed.

"Draco, could you please touch Harry's hand?'

Harry remained focused on the telescope as Draco reached a hand out and placed it on top of the one that Harry had rested on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. At the touch a small shock went through both boys, and the telescope flew across the room and shattered against a painting of a previous headmistress, who looked like she had just been slapped. "Well, I never!"

"I'm sorry!"

"No that's quite alright, Harry." Dumbledore assured him as he repaired the shattered telescope.

Harry stared, wide-eyed up at the witch, who still glared down at him.

"If you don't mind me asking, what in the BLOODY HELL just happened?" Harry turned from Draco to Dumbledore, thinking that that was a very good question the Slytherin had just asked.

The headmaster surveyed the boys for a while, not replying.

Finally, Dumbledore asked them "Have either of you heard of an Eademus?"

Harry began shaking his head, but Draco immediately asked, "You mean, like, a soul mate?"

"Actually, that is a common misconception. Eademae are rare, there may only be one pair every century or so, so you can see why their status would take on mythical proportions in the lack of physical representatives. Eademae are actually witches or wizards found in pairs. Usually one or both has a special gift, and they act as a sort of ground and centre for each other. The concept of soul mates, in the original Greek sense of the phrase, means two people who share a single fragmented soul, each searching the world over for the one who will complete them. Eademae are different. In their case, the pairing is not determined by fate or destiny, but a mutual choice by both Eademae. They each sense, somehow, that the other is a good match, that their powers, skills, strengths, and personalities complement each other. The last known pair was actually a set of twins living in the Kingdom of Kongo in the late fifteenth century, one of whom was a very well-known seer."

"So what's that have to do with-" Draco looked at Harry, the answer suddenly dawning on him. "Wandless magic!"

Dumbledore nodded, "The last wizard we know of who could perform wandless magic anywhere close to the level harry demonstrated last night was Merlin, and it took HIM decades to reach that level."

Harry felt left out of the conversation, since he had no idea what was going on.

"This could explain what happened with your Dark Mark." Dumbledore smiled at the Slytherin.

"Ooooohhh..." Draco looked over at Harry.

"Excuse me, but I still have no idea what you guys are talking about."

Dumbledore explained, "Wandless magic is a very challenging magical pursuit that few undertake, and even fewer have much success with. It is currently assumed that true wandless ability is inborn, since even the most talented witches and wizards never advance beyond very rudimentary spellwork without wands. I myself can only perform a few spells consistently without a wand, all of which are part of our first-year curriculum.

"The wand acts as a kind of focus for magical energy, it amplifies one's intent and affords a means of control. Without wands, most people's magic is much like the kinds of things that happen with very young witches and wizards: haphazard, uncontrolled, and weak. With rigorous training and discipline one can learn to do simple spells without a wand, but it is very draining, and almost never reliable. For the natural wandless wizard, though, wandless magic can be as easy as magic with a wand is for the rest for the rest of us.

"Tell me, Harry. Have you been having trouble with your magic recently?"

"He has been-" Draco answered for him, "-even simple spells have been going awry. I assumed his wand needed replacing."

Dumbledore nodded again, as if he were expecting Draco's answer. "Usually, wandless witches or wizards have trouble using wands. Wands act as a kind of barrier to those who don't need them, like trying to turn a doorknob with chopsticks. The trouble with wands usually starts when the wizard or witch comes of age, and his or her magic fully matures, at age seventeen."

"I guess I did first notice it at the start of this year. It started out pretty small, and has only gotten worse this past few months. I don't think I've actually performed a proper spell in weeks."

"With a wand, that is." Dumbledore smiled down at him.

"But sir, you said wandless magic is 'as easy' for a wandless wizard as regular magic with a wand is for everyone else, not 'easier'. If it's not possible to change a Dark Mark with a wand, shouldn't it be the same for me without a wand, even if I am a wandless wizard?"

"That is a good point, Harry. Honestly, I have been expecting something like this to happen since Draco's mark was changed. The killing curse is supposed to be unstoppable too, but your mother's love somehow blocked it. Like the prophesy said, and like I told you at the end of your fifth year, you have a power that Voldemort knows not: Your capacity to love."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other, cheeks marked with identical blushes.

"I believe that your feelings for each other interfered with the original marking ceremony, and allowed you to change the mark when you were both ready."

"We didn't have feelings for each other before the marking..."

"In fact, we had a fight in the hall just before I left to meet my father that day."

Harry looked at the Slytherin in surprise. "That was the day you were marked?"

Draco nodded.

"Curious. Perhaps you sensed at that time what you would be to each other, even if you weren't conscious of it."

"Oh, I felt something," Harry replied.

"So did I, but it was hard to reconcile it with my hostile feelings at the time. If I hadn't seen what I did during the marking, I would probably have never..." Draco paused. Though he had mentioned to Harry about what had happened to him during the marking, he had never been specific about details.

"What did you see, Draco?"

"You. I saw you. Every encounter you've ever had with the Dark Lord, from the time he first tried to kill you to the Ministry for Magic last year, I saw it all through the Dark Lord's eyes."

End Chapter Thirteen


	14. Chapter 14

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 14

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Dumbledore had let them go with instructions to meet back with him after lunch. He had made it seem like he needed to look a few things up before discussing the details of what Harry and Draco were with them, but the way he had looked over his glasses at them and said, "I believe there are some things you need to deal with in the meantime," clued Draco in to the fact that this was not going to be an easy morning.

Sure enough, as they emerged into the passage outside of Dumbledore's office, they were greeted with the sight of Ron, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, sternly meeting their gaze. Though they had spent all of the night before in each other's company, they had not spoken. The shock of that evening, and the wariness of the busy day before, had left them all exhausted and introspective. Now, it seemed, Ron was ready to talk.

"So, Harry, I couldn't help noticing a few things yesterday," Ron began, counting off on his fingers as he went, "Vampires attacked the school, you killed one from twenty five feet away without a wand, you kissed Malfoy, Malfoy saved my life..."

He waited for a response, but when none was forthcoming, he continued, "Would you care to explain that?"

"Uhhh, which one?" Harry asked, the nervousness apparent in his voice.

"Well, Hermione wants to see us in the library right now, I suspect she'll want a full report on everything, but I'm your best friend, and I think I have the right to know before her... about Malfoy."

As Harry drew in a breath, preparing to speak, Draco took the opportunity to step forward, offering a hand to Ron. "Draco Malfoy, Harry's boyfriend."

Ron wearily eyed Draco's offered hand, before looking over the Slytherin's shoulder at Harry, who simply nodded. Draco did not give up, and left his hand hanging between them until Ron finally took it.

"We've been together since Christmas break," Harry offered.

"How in the hell did that happen?"

"You must have noticed that since close to the beginning of the term, he hasn't been his usual prat of a self." At Ron's shrug, Harry continued, "Well, I noticed too, and along with that I noticed some other things about him that I would have never even bothered to see otherwise."

"Why a junior death eater, Harry?"

"I am as against You Know Who as you are, Weasley. Remember that I am not my father."

Knowing that this was still a sore subject for the Slytherin, Harry interjected before Ron's fiery temper had a chance to react with Draco's defensiveness. Harry knew that unless his friends had the full picture, they would always be suspicious of Draco. They needed to know what he knew. "Draco, can we tell them?"

Draco looked down at his arm, which was currently hidden beneath the sleeve of his school robes. "Okay, but let's make sure everyone that needs to know will be there, I don't want to have to keep reliving this."

Harry nodded, "Let's go join Hermione, shall we?

All three of them made their way silently to the library, a solemn procession of wizards through the halls, through the doors of the library, and into a study room in the back.

It was only as they shut the door behind them that Ron broke formation to stand beside Hermione, mirroring her pose with arms crossed defensively across his chest. Harry immediately collapsed into the nearest chair, not able to take a confrontation with his friends on top of everything else that had happened in the last few days. Draco remained standing, partly in attempt to remain on level with Ron and Hermione, not comfortable with the thought of them standing over him, and partly to draw their attention, giving Harry a break in the only way he could. He would have offered to do this alone, if not for the fact that he was sure the other Gryffindors would not listen to him unless Harry was there, and the fact that he was far too scared to face them on his own.

"I guess the only way to start is at the beginning. So in October I was given the Dark Mark, and by 'given' I mean 'my father put me under imperious and You Know Who forced the mark on me against my will'...," he noticed both Hermione and Ron move, but continued, leaving them no chance to interrupt, "...and it sort of changed me; Harry and I sort of became not enemies, then friends, and Harry changed the mark," he held up his arm and pulled his sleeve down so that they could see it as he continued speaking, "and he was funny, and intelligent, and surprisingly naughty for a Gryffindor, which I found intriguing, of course, which only made me want to know him even more, and I've been having nightmares from you know who's point of view, so I've been joining Harry in his occlumency lessons with Dumbledore, and we've been spending a lot of time together, and Harry is apparently a wandless wizard, and Dumbledore thinks we might be Eademae, at least that's what he just told us, and he thinks that might have something to do with Harry changing my mark, and we are in a relationship, which were planning on telling you two, we had even discussed it a few times, but then vampires under the influence of You Know Who attacked the school and interrupted our plans, but now you know."

When he had shown them the mark, Hermione had approached and grabbed his arm, pulling it down so she could more closely examine the changed mark. As Draco finished speaking, Hermione finally released his hand and moved back beside Ron, who had not moved a muscle the whole time, except that the look on his face had changed from suspicion to confusion. "Wait, wait, wait! Back up," he finally said as Draco stopped to take a breath. "That sentence carried a bit more information than I can digest at one time. So the marking was against your will?"

"Yes," Draco met Ron's questioning gaze, hoping that his sloppy convoluted explanation had been enough to derail Ron's anger just long enough for a direct answer to prevent his short fuse from ever getting a chance to ignite. "I never wanted the mark. Despite what I've said and done in the past, I do not agree with my father's politics."

"What made you change your mind?" Ron was very focused on this aspect of Draco's story, and Draco knew that this had to be addressed for the issue to be fully resolved.

"Well, honestly, I don't know whether I ever really believed it all in the first place. Half of the idiotic ideas that used to populate my head were learned verbatim from my father, and I don't think I ever really understood them or their implications, at least until the day I was marked. I never really believed half of the stories I heard about what my father had done. I've never even told Harry this, but it wasn't until I saw my father hurt my mother, I mean really hurt her, for trying to protect me that day that I really understood what he, and what You Know Who, are all about. That he considers those beliefs so important that he was willing to hurt his wife for only trying to stand up for her son, his son... That he would take away his own son's free will... I can never forgive him for that, and I could never align myself with a group that would use tactics like that to... Those ideals have turned my father into a monster. You Know Who is a monster. For what he did to me, I could never join him; for what he did to my father, and to my mother, for what he's doing to every human being on this planet, I must fight against him.

"After I was marked, as soon as he let me go, I went to Dumbledore. I told him everything, and he supported me in the way my father SHOULD have. He didn't pressure or force me into any decision; he didn't take away my free will. The choice to join the right side was my own. The simple fact that I HAD a choice let me know which side was really right all along."

Harry sprung from his seat with renewed vigour. He had never heard about Draco's mother, and he was torn between disgust and horror about what Draco might have witnessed, and overwhelming pride and affection toward Draco, who had just said it all so simply yet effectively, he had renewed Harry's faith in the wizard world. Harry pulled Draco into his arms and kissed him, letting his feelings spill out at every point their skin touched. It was only after a minute, when they breathlessly separated that he remembered Ron and Hermione were still in the room with them. He turned to find them both slack-jawed staring at them.

"Well, now that we've covered THAT, I have a few questions..." Hermione had obviously recovered enough that her eternally information-starved mind had begun working again; Ron was not quite coherent yet.

They each took their place around the oval table. Draco and Harry sat together on one side of the table, Hermione on the opposite. Ron watched from his position at the head of the table, removed from the conversation, not by the distance between him and the three sitting at the middle of the table, but by the fact that they were talking about things that he wasn't ready to process yet. While they spoke of wandless magic, impossibly changed Dark Marks, and Eadamae, Ron only remained focused on Draco and Harry. The two boys sat very close, obviously comfortable with each other. Draco leaned forward, immersed in theoretical conversation with Hermione. Harry sat at his side, interjecting whenever he had something to add to the conversation, but otherwise, simply listening. When Harry and Draco met each other's gaze, even Ron had to admit that there was certainly something there.

Still, he was just coming to the conclusion that he might never fully get used to the idea that Harry was with Draco when all the pieces fell into place. Draco had reached into his bag and pulled out four chocolate frogs, which he had distributed to each person in the room. Ron shoved his into his mouth whole, the way he always ate his frogs. Harry and Hermione ate theirs in their usual manner; taking smaller nibbles; making the treat last longer. Draco had bit the head off of his frog before devouring the rest of it in a second bite when Madam Pince swept by, peeking into the small window in the door. Hermione had already tucked the remainder of her frog under a book, but Harry had nowhere to hide the rest of his, and was forced to shove it wholly into his mouth. Since he had been holding on to it for a while, there was melted chocolate on his fingers, which transferred to his face as he shoved his frog in. Madam Pince had moved on in her rounds, but upon seeing the room unexpectedly occupied, turned back quickly to take a closer look for any rule breaking. In the split-second before her face reappeared in the window, Draco had quickly swept his thumb at the chocolate at the corner of Harry's mouth, licking the evidence off just in time. Pince scanned the room and moved on, assured that her books were safe.

They each remained still, unmoving, until they were assured that she had truly gone. Finally, breathing a sigh of relief, Harry smiled and muttered, "Thanks," around the chocolate still taking up the majority of his mouth. Draco merely smiled in return, reaching down to squeeze the Gryffindor's thigh before turning back to Hermione to continue the conversation where they had left off. Ron couldn't say whether it was the casual way the men interacted, their smiles and off-hand affection, or even something as simple as Draco licking melted chocolate from Harry's face off his own thumb. Whatever the reason, all of a sudden Ron understood. It would still seem weird, at least for a while; but somehow, Ron had to admit that the weirdness made sense.

-o-o-o-o-

They had parted ways, Hermione to stay in the library and research as much as she could on every subject that had come up during their discussion, Ron to keep her company, and Harry and Draco to meet with Dumbledore again. Upon parting, they had made plans to meet again that evening, to share everything they had learned that afternoon.

"Well," Hermione had said after the other two boys had left, "what do you think?"

"I suppose we should start with Eadema..." Ron rose warily to begin their search for information.

"Eademae, Ron. And that isn't what I was talking about. Are you okay?"

He sat heavily back down, glad that Hermione had given him an opening to talk about it. "That was some kiss, wasn't it?"

"It certainly was," she replied, "I mean, we've seen how passionate Harry can get sometimes, but I had never seen anything like that from Draco."

"I know! Admittedly, he hasn't been his usual horrible git-of-a-self this year, but I would have never expected... What do you think?"

"Well, Harry is obviously happy. He has been for months. And Draco...I don't think I've ever seen him..." She had no idea how to say it.

She didn't need to say it. "I know."

"I believe him, Ron."

"I do too. I mean, it's still weird as hell, but..."

He looked up at Hermione, hoping she would be okay with what he was about to ask. "Do you think they've ever..?"

"I don't know. They certainly have physical chemistry, don't they?"

"No kidding, I mean I am totally straight and everything, but that was kinda..."

"Hot?"

Ron released his tension in an abrupt chuckle. "Yeah."

"So, how about Harry beheading that vampire from across the Entrance Hall?"

-o-o-o-o-

"So, Harry," Draco asked as they made their way to Dumbledore's office. "Do you think the chocolate frog worked?"

"What do you mean?"

"Weasley was shooting me a death-glare for a while there. I've seen him eat; I thought maybe the way to a Weasley's heart is through his stomach. He seemed to be warming up a bit at the end, downgraded to a maim-glare, possibly even a paper cut-glare?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, before he had taken the time to think about it. "Actually, you might be right, about the way to Ron's heart, not the glares."

They arrived at Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster explained to them everything he had found about Eademae, and wandless magic.

"As you know, magic is a natural force. It is contained to some extent in all things. Muggles, some animals and plants, and many inorganic substances hold very little magic. Wizards, some animals, plants, and other inorganic substances hold higher levels of magic. Similarly, some places hold more magic than others. Magic, like any other type of energy, cannot be created or destroyed, it can only change form. Much of the magic in the world is inaccessible, even to the most powerful of creatures. Wizards invented wands to help them focus their own energy, and occasionally surrounding energy, into a form more easily manipulated. The wand merely helps the wizard focus this energy, as do incantations. Learning to perform magic without incantations is advanced, but typically not beyond the capabilities of the average wizard. Raw magic, the kind that wandless wizard use, is usually beyond what most people can safely and reliably handle. There is something about the wandless wizard that make him more in-tune with the raw magic around and within him. Wandless magic is rare; so rare, in fact, that little is written about it in contemporary English. There is a room in the department of mysteries that has much information on subject, but accessing it may pose a bit of a challenge for us right now, which I will explain shortly.

"What I can give you more information on is Eademae. They are rare as well, but there is much more readily available documentation on them. As I said, they are witches or wizards found in pairs. One typically has a special gift, and the other tends to act as a failsafe, a sort of ground and centre, to support his or her match. Occasionally, they both have a special gift, and their gifs somehow work in tandem or combine in some way. Beyond that, the specifics depend on the special gift or gifts involved, which unfortunately brings us back to the esoteric subject of wandless magic. What I can tell you is that you, Harry, seem to be a wandless wizard. I do not yet know what your gift, Draco, entails. It may be as simple as acting as a support system for Harry as he learns to control his own gift, it may be something more complicated.

"Now, about the challenge of finding more information on wandless magic: Ideally, you boys would be given as much time as you needed to integrate your newly emerging abilities, and explore what your gifts mean. Unfortunately, Voldemort is unlikely to adjust his plots to allow you this luxury. Also ideally, what you are could be made public knowledge, and you would be free to seek any help you desire. Unfortunately, discretion might be the safest route in this case. Though being wandless wizard is an unbelievable tactical advantage, it is an advantage that would best not be advertised, especially until you have a better handle on your gifts. The information in the department of mysteries is not wholly inaccessible to us, but to request access would needlessly draw attention to the subject. As Voldemort has many connections within the ministry, what you are is not something we should want anyone in the ministry to know. It should also be kept a secret at Hogwarts, for the same reasons. It would be best to use this," he handed Harry a wand that looked exactly like his old one. "It is not a real wand, but simply a piece of wood carved to look like one."

"As for what you are to each other, given whom each of you is, Voldemort must not know about your connection. The prophecy has already ensured that Harry is a target. If Voldemort were to find out about the true nature of your connection, Draco would become a target as well."

Draco could contain himself no longer. "Okay, I can't take it anymore. What is this prophecy about? I thought I got the gist of it from you know who's memory, but I can't help but shake the feeling-and neither can he, by the way- that there is something more important that I am missing."

"You have not told him?" Dumbledore asked, concerned.

"I haven't told anyone."

"My boy, have you really kept this inside all these years?"

The Gryffindor had no answer beyond shamefully looking down at his own feet.

"It it not my secret to tell, Draco. Although I do urge Harry to share it with those closest to him. I never expected you to keep it to yourself all this time, Harry. Having those with whom we may share ourselves is an invaluable strength. Do not deny yourself this connection.

"For now, I would advise you two to practice together and explore what you can do, and when in need, seek help from those you trust."

End Chapter Fourteen


	15. Chapter 15

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 15

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Harry knew Dumbledore was right, he owed it to Draco, Ron, and Hermione to tell them about the prophecy. At first he hadn't told them because he didn't want them to have to carry the burden of it, or to think differently about him. After a while, though, the more he put it off, the bigger burden it became. Telling them right after he found out would have been easier than telling them that summer, which would have been easier than telling them in the fall, which would have been easier...

Now, two years later, he found himself standing in the room of requirement. Lined up on the sofa in front of him were his boyfriend, and his two best friends, staring up at him as he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, trying to find the will and the way to tell them everything.

"I realise you, all of you, have had a lot to process lately, and I realise a lot of that is my fault, but there's something I need to tell you..."

"Uhhh, Harry? D'ya think you could maybe sit down? You're making us nervous."

Remembering the furs that had appeared less than 48 hours ago when they were needed, he fell backward heavily into a chair that had not been there a second before, causing Hermione to gasp.

"Here's the thing...you remember that prophecy that was destroyed? It wasn't the only record of that particular prophecy. That prophecy was made to Dumbledore a few months before I was born, and when we got back from the Department of Mysteries that night, he told me what it said.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies; and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not; and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

He looked up at them for the first time since he had asked them to sit down, and continued, "So basically, it was a prediction of my birth, a prediction of him trying to kill me the first time...and a prediction that one of us would end up killing the other in the end. The thing is, a Death Eater overheard the original prophecy, at least a portion of it. That Death Eater reported to Voldemort what he heard, the bit about the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord being born at the end of July in 1980. That was the reason Voldemort tried to kill me in the first place. He has never heard the rest of it. That's why they were after it two years ago."

"Harry, why did you never tell us?"

"I don't know. I mean, how do you tell your friends that you are going to either end up a murderer, or a murder victim?"

"Apparently, you wait until they've had a bit more life-changing information than they can process thrown at them in a single day, then line them up on the couch, and give it to them straight."

"I'm sorry about that, Ron, I..."

"No, it's fine. My head hasn't exploded yet. Is there anything else you need to tell us?"

"Yes," Draco rose from the couch, standing behind Harry and placing a supportive hand on his shoulder, facing the remaining Gryffindors in the room. "We're pregnant."

Ron could only gape, face totally devoid of colour, locked in Draco's steely grey stare. Harry smiled. It wasn't until Hermione let out a small snicker that the serious look on Draco's face cracked, and one corner of his mouth turned up.

"DON'T DO THAT!"

-o-o-o-o-

"Alright, Harry. Concentrate."

For what felt like the hundredth time, Harry tried to make the pillow lying at his feet float across the room to join the small pile that already lay near the opposite wall. There seemed to be no middle ground, with either the pillow laying still, refusing to budge, or flying through the air with such force, the seams kept splitting, showering Harry and Draco in feathers.

Harry concentrated, and the pillow did nothing. Draco reached down and grabbed Harry's hand, and again they were showered in feathers. Draco magically swept them up and back into the pillow, which he mended and sent to join the others.

"This is stupid! What good am I now? I can't do a single thing without touching you. What are you going to do, hold my hand in battle?"

"If I have to, yes. Besides, with the way your spells are going right now, just try to hit You Know Who with a tickling charm, and you'll end up ripping him apart." Harry glared at the other boy, who decided to try a different tack. "But I don't think that will be necessary. Come on, let's try something."

He led Harry over to the pile of pillows, where he sat, pulling the Gryffindor down with him. They sat cross-legged facing each other, their knees touching and hands clasped between them. "Okay, just relax, and close your eyes. Don't try to do anything."

Harry closed his eyes.

"Stop it, I said, 'Don't try to do anything.'"

"I'm not"

"Yes you are, I can tell."

"How?"

"I just can, now stop."

"Fine."

"Now, try to break out of the wand mentality. You're still imagining holding a wand. The wand is holding you back. You don't need the wand. You want to do something different."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. That's your job to figure out; I'm just here for moral support. Now move the pillow. Don't think about it, just do it."

Huffing in exasperation, Harry tried again. The pillow lifted above their heads in an arch, landing on their other side. It was still a violent movement, but it was more controlled than anything Harry had done without a wand yet.

"There. Your hand twitched what were you doing?"

"Instead of using a wand, I imagined just doing it myself, by hand."

Draco let go of Harry's hands, instead squeezing the other boy's thighs through his trousers. "Do it again."

With his hands free, Harry directed the pillow back over their heads to its starting position. It ascended steadily enough, but touched down on the other side a bit too roughly, shooting a stream of feathers across the room from a minute newly-torn rip at the seam.

"I'm going to back away from you. Try that again."

After Draco had moved away Harry tried one last time, and was shocked to see the pillow fly in a graceful arch over their heads, showering them lightly with a few feathers from the just-split seam that they had not bothered to repair. It landed just as softly beside him. It was the first time he had consciously done something without a wand and without touching Draco. He looked in wide-eyed wonderment at Draco, who merely smiled in return.

-o-o-o-o-o-

They spent the next hour practicing easier spells from their first few years at Hogwarts. Now that Harry had changed his way of thinking, he found that things were slowly becoming easier. Instead of thinking as if he had a wand, Harry had to start thinking with his body. Draco's presence helped a lot, since whenever the Slytherin was around, Harry found it very easy to think with his body anyway. Of course, this made their practice go slower than it should have, with their periodic breaks spent snogging. Each new spell tripped him up slightly at first, but he caught on quickly, and each subsequent technique was quicker to come to him than the last.

After only a few days, Draco suggested that Harry was ready to start practicing defensive spells.

"Are you crazy? Sure things are going wrong less often now, but when they DO go wrong, they go INCREADIBLY wrong. I can't practice on people!"

"You'll have to start some time, might as well be now." Draco looked up at the Gryffindor through his eye lashes. "I'm going to attack you, Harry." Though he was trying to appear intimidating, Harry just found the warning incredibly sexy.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Draco." He smirked back at the other boy.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_

Out of reflex alone, Harry had blocked the attack without even thinking. Draco was thrown violently backward and slammed into the opposite wall, where he slid down in a heap at the base.

"Oh, my god!"

He raced over to crouch above the Slytherin, who was blinking, dazed, toward the ceiling.

"I'm so, so sorry. Are you okay?" Looking for a wound, he tried to run his hands along the back of Draco's head without moving his neck. Finally, Draco focused up at Harry, a small smile on his lips.

"Perhaps I should have given that idea a little more thought."

"I told you, I'm not ready for that."

"Yes you are, and I know what to do, be we're going to need help."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You want us to WHAT?" Ron's eyes were bulging out of his head.

"Er...attack me?"

Ron's gaze bounced between Harry and Draco. When neither of them bothered to add anything else, he looked to Hermione, and was even more shocked to see that she wasn't.

"Don't you have anything to say about this?"

"I've been expecting a request like this for a while now. From what I've read, there's only so much Harry and Draco will be able to do alone on this subject."

"Harry, I want to help,I really do, but I saw what you did with that vampire. I don't want to be on the receiving end of anything even APPROACHING that."

"This will be different, Ron. Draco-hell-all of us were in danger then. I'll be more in control now."

"Why do I get the feeling that 'more in control' from you still means Hermione and I will end up in the hospital wing?"

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't important; you know that Ron, but this is Voldemort we're talking about here. This is life and death for all of us."

Ron looked back at Hermione, who nodded her head. "Of course we'll help, Harry."

"Just, you know, be careful with my girlfriend."

From his spot leaning on the wall near the door, Draco spoke up for the first time since they entered the Room of Requirement. "I think I've found a way to help with that."

He ran at Ron and tackled him with all of his might into the opposite wall. The hit was so hard, they were airborne when they made contact. They both flew back into the wall, which seemed to deform outward to catch them, before slowly righting itself, standing them upright in the process.

"What the bloody hell!" Ron glared at Draco, cradling his chest where the Slytherin had hit him.

"We've made the room to protect the occupants as much as possible. It can't protect from some of Harry's direct effects, but it can help with the indirect ones."

"Honestly, I'm more worried about the direct effects."

"That's where I come in. I can't be Harry's opponent, because I have to act as a failsafe."

The four of them spent the weekend practicing in the room of requirement. As long as Draco stayed focused on Harry, and within touching distance, he was able to curb some of the power behind the Gryffindor's spells. They had specifically asked for the room to protect its inhabitants from harm, which the room seemed to be doing in surprising ways. Not only did it cushion them when they fell, but it seemed to be working to protect them from Harry too. A few times when Harry accidently put too much power behind a spell, the would-be recipient found themselves somehow teleported out of the path of destruction. The same could not be said for the furniture in the room.

End Chapter Fifteen

A/N: On the pronounciation of Eademus and Eademae:

Someone has asked, so I thought I'd explain. They are made up words. Though Eademus is also the name of an ancient Greek philosopher, he was not my inspiration for the words. I based them on the Latin eadem (or idem) which means "the same." It is pronounced "ay (as in hAY) ah (as in blAH) day (as in, well, day) mus (as in MUSt)" and the plural is "ay ah day may."


	16. Chapter 16

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 16

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

Despite the upheaval that their lives had undergone in the past month, they had tried to go about life as usual, or at least the appearance of life as usual. Today, that meant a Quidditch match: Gryffindor against Ravenclaw.

Draco sat in the stands, separate from his fellow Slytherins. He didn't think he could sit through the insults directed at Harry that he knew would be the staple of talk in the Slytherin section. He absolutely refused to sit in the Gryffindor section on principle, though he knew he would be cheering right along with them in this particular match. He thought it a bad idea to sit with the Ravenclaws. As they would invariably be cheering for their own side, his cheering for the Gryffindors (more specifically, his cheering for Harry), would draw unwanted attention. Instead, he sat in the Hufflepuff section. He noticed, with some amusement, that the Hufflepuffs were giving him a wide berth. By the look of things, he had assumed he would be sitting alone, when the shadow of a bushy head of hair appeared in the early morning sun falling at his feet. He looked up to find Hermione standing above him, looking down.

"Mind if I join you today?"

He fought off a surge of surprise, before answering, "Sure, go ahead."

It was a little awkward at first. He had never been alone with Hermione before, at least not civilly. He looked across the pitch and wondered what his housemates would think if they looked over and saw the two together. Eventually, as the game drew nearer, Hufflepuffs filled the stands around them, and he found that with the addition of Hermione at his side, or possibly the rapidly filling stands, the Hufflepuffs were venturing closer and closer to him. He could hear snippets of their conversations.

"..do you recon their chances are..."

"Are you kidding? Harry Potter can't be beat."

"Yeah, but the Ravenclaw Keeper is the best they've had in years."

"Good Keeper or no, Harry'll catch the Snitch."

"I don't care who wins; I just want to see the boys in their Quidditch robes."

Hermione and Draco both smiled to themselves at Hannah's comment.

The boys continued their conversation, ignoring their housemate.

"Yes, but if Ravenclaw beats Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff beats Slytherin-"

"Never happen." Some of the Hufflepuffs jumped at Draco's interjection. Hermione went to stomp on Draco's foot, but he had already begun to speak again. "If Marco doesn't learn to watch his right side, he'll never get a chance to score. He's your best Chaser."

The Hufflepuffs all looked shocked, not only that Draco was talking to them, but that he was being civil about it. Of course, his civility caused some of them to clam up even more, but one brave first year spoke up, "If Slytherin wouldn't play so dirty..."

Draco held up his hand, "Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots, if you can't learn to adapt to the opponent's style of play..."

Movement on the field caught Draco's eye, and he trailed off. The teams were entering the field, and Draco's eyes immediately found Harry, enjoying the fact that the Quidditch robes were made of a different material than the school robes; they hung and clung differently, and accentuated Harry's musculature in all the right ways.

Everyone took their places, madam hooch released the balls, and the game was underway. Draco remained focused intently on Harry. This was not new to him; he usually spent Gryffindor Quidditch matches watching Harry (it had cost him the Snitch a couple of times throughout the years), though his thoughts hadn't always been the same. He could admit that SOME of his former thoughts were geared toward appreciating Harry's physical form, but that bit had always been undercut with fantasies of Harry losing spectacularly, or being injured in some permanent way. Now, in the absence of those wicked thoughts, he found new wicked thoughts had taken their place. Watching Harry straddle his broom and kick off into the air brought back images of their time together the night before. Draco revelled in memories of himself kneeling on the conjured furs; Harry kneeled behind him, kissing his neck and upper back before gently bending him forward. His bare chest pressing into the leather of the couch warmed by the fire as Harry peppered kisses on his lower back, preparing Draco and then himself to be connected in the most intimate way possible. Harry had topped again, and Draco couldn't decide which he liked more: the feel of Harry deep inside him, making him feel full and complete as their sweat slicked torsos slid across each other, or the feel of being inside Harry, feeling that unbelievable tightness and warmth envelope him, feeling the exact moment when Harry would clench down, the tightness becoming even more intense as he would invariable draw Draco's own orgasm out with each throbbing squeeze.

Draco had to remind himself to breathe as he brought his attention back to the game. Harry circled high above the pitch. As he rounded the stands and flew by where Draco and Hermione were sitting, he flashed small grin. Hannah let out an audible sigh. Secretly, Draco agreed.

As he circled around the other side of the pitch, Harry dove down quickly, and Draco felt the echo of the familiar swoop in his own gut. "He's found the Snitch!" The commentator yelled above the gasp of the crowd. Harry was gaining on the snitch, the Ravenclaw seeker close on his tail. He put on one last burst of speed and his hand clasped down on the tiny golden ball just as a Bludger connected with the back of his head. Focused as they all were on Harry's steep dive, no one had even seen the Bludger makings its way toward Harry from one of the Ravenclaw Beaters.

Harry fell forward over the front of his broom. Already so deep in the dive that there was not much air between him and the ground, he hit it hard. The crowd gasped.

"You bastard!" Draco was out of his seat yelling before he could stop himself.

Hermione had hardly gotten out of her own seat by the time Draco had started making his way down the stands. Hermione followed just as quick.

By the time Draco had made it down to the field, Ron had already helped Harry into a sitting position. He was cradling his right arm to his chest. Seeing Harry injured, Draco turned in anger toward Feltcher, the Beater who had sent the Bludger toward Harry.

"What in the hell were you thinking?"

"Uh...er.." The Beater had no idea how to respond.

Draco walked up to the boy and pushed him, causing him to stumble back a few paces.

Harry tried to get up while his Gryffindor team mates went to pull Draco back.

"Draco!"

"IF. YOU. EVER-" Draco hadn't turned toward Harry's voice, but remained struggling against the two Gryffindor Beaters and the Ravenclaw Keeper who were now attempting to hold him away from Feltcher.

Harry finally reached Draco's side, trying to pull his own teammates off of Draco. "What's the big deal? I'm fine!"

Still frantic, Draco finally turned toward him. "He could have killed you!"

"He didn't! You can't just go around attacking people!"

"He sent that Bludger.."

"It's the game; the hit wasn't late! Why are you freaking out?"

"Because I love you!"

All separate conversations around them ceased instantly. As the people still holding on to Draco released him in shock, he stumbled slightly before gaining his footing again. A murmur ran through the crowd.

"…did he say..."

"…did you hear…"

"…oh my God…"

Harry and Draco only stood gaping at each other. Though they had both thought it, neither of them had said it out loud before.

"…cat's out of the bag…"

"You're not helping, Ron."

Draco looked around at all the dumbfounded faces, before looking back at Harry, a similar shocked look on his face.

"Oh, bugger it," he said, under his breath, before he launched himself at the Gryffindor, locking their bodies together in a passionate kiss.

Draco ignored the murmurs that had increased, now, in intensity, not even registering the sharp uptake in sound as Harry wrapped his good arm around Draco's neck and pulled back slightly, only long enough to say, "I love you, too," before leaning back in and continuing the kiss. The rest of the people surrounding them didn't matter, what mattered was that they had finally said it, and that Harry was in his arms.

"Budge aside, go on, move out, move out." Madame Hooch pushed her way through to the centre of the crowd. "Excuse me, gents. Harry needs to be checked out in the hospital wing."

Draco pulled back, but kept Harry's face cradled in his hands, their eyes locked and identical smiles gracing their lips.

"I'll bring him up," Draco said, never looking away from Harry.

"We'll help." Hermione stepped forward, pulling Ron by the arm.

The four of them made their way to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them. As soon as she healed his sprain with a charm and gave Harry the "all clear," the four of them made their way to the room of requirement. They had to talk, and they didn't want any interruptions.

End Chapter Sixteen


	17. Chapter 17

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 17

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

They didn't know what to expect now that everyone knew about Harry and Draco. Hermione was adamant that she and Ron would go out of their way to show solidarity and support for the boy's relationship; she seemed to think the rest of the school would accept Draco more if that were the case. The four of them spent the whole rest of the day in the Room of Requirement. They practiced defence a little, but mostly relaxed, each lost in their own thoughts. At one point, Hermione and Ron sat at the little table, finishing a game of Wizard's Chess. As Ron murmured, "Checkmate," Hermione looked up from the game and saw Harry and Draco over by the fire. Draco lay across the length of the sofa, half reclining and half upright rested up against the leather arm. Harry sat on the floor in front of the sofa, leaning back against it. Both boys had their eyes closed but Draco was absentmindedly running his hands through Harry's hair.

Ron looked up, and noticing which direction she was gazing in, turned to see what was behind him. After a minute, he turned back around.

"That's something I never thought I'd see."

"It's getting late, we should head back to our common rooms."

"I don't want to face them all right now." Harry spoke, but did not open his eyes.

As Hermione stood, she looked down on the black-haired boy with pity. "Why don't you stay here tonight, Harry? That way, Ron and I can feel the situation out, possibly head off anything that might come up."

Finally opening his eyes, he stood up and looked down at Draco. "I think I will," he said, as if only to the semi-prone Slytherin.

Hearing the Gryffindor's tone, Draco sat up and opened his eyes, locking them on to Harry. "I think I will too." He took Harry's offered hand, and they both stood, face to face, ignoring the other two Gryffindors.

Despite the intimacy of the moment, Hermione couldn't help herself. She went to them and hugged Harry quickly, before moving on and giving Draco the same tight squeeze. Only the shock of receiving a hug from Hermione could have torn his attention from Harry. He looked at Hermione and gave her a genuine smile, before making his way to the door, holding it open for them. He received another pleasant shock when, on his way out the door, Ron gave him a supportive slap on the arm, before turning to Harry and mouthing "Good luck!"

After they had gone he closed the door again and leaned back against it, fixing his gaze on Harry as he did so.

"Say it again." Harry's voice was heavy with emotion.

The intensity with which he looked at Draco caused the Slytherin's breath to catch. He was tempted to tease Harry and say, 'Say what again?' but he knew perfectly well what Harry wanted, and right now he wanted nothing more than to give it to him. Breathily, he said it. "I love you, Harry."

Harry gasped, and took a step forward. "Again."

Draco took a step toward Harry, and again, his own voice deep with arousal, he said, "I love you, Harry."

Harry took one more step and whispered, "Again."

Draco closed the remaining distance between them until his mouth was mere inches from Harry's ear. "Iloveyou," he whispered in one long drawn-out exhalation, his breathy pronouncement ghosting across the sensitive skin on Harry's neck, and because he knew how it would affect Harry, rubbing his jaw, rugged from not having shaven since that morning, across Harry's cheek.

Harry leaned back and reached up to Draco's face, cradling it in his hands. "I love you too, Draco," he said before kissing the Slytherin deeply, then dropping on his knees and unfastening the buttons on Draco's trousers.

o-o-o-o

"It's Sunday; we don't have to go." Harry nuzzled deeper into Draco's side, rubbing lazy circles along the blonde's bare chest. A bright ray of early morning sun shone through the window on them as they lay on the conjured furs.

"Hey, you're supposed to be the brave Gryffindor. We can't hide in here forever, and I personally think that the longer we make them wait, the worse it will be."

"Can't we just wait until after breakfast?"

"We haven't had anything other than some of Ron's sweets stash since yesterday morning. I don't know about you, but I get cranky when I'm hungry." He got up and made his way to the wall, where a mirror had appeared. He flattened his hair with his fingers, forgoing his usual gel, then scratched his cheek. "I don't want to get my wand, can you do a shave charm on me."

Harry stood up and went to stand behind Draco, pressing his own still-nude body against Draco's bare backside. Looking in the mirror, he reached a hand around and rubbed his fingertips slightly over Draco's jaw. "How about you let it grow for a day or two?"

Draco turned around to face Harry, pulling the Gryffindor close again. "What is it with you and stubble?"

Harry leaned forward and rubbed his lips along Draco's Jaw, whispering, "I don't know. What is it with you and my Quidditch Uniform?"

"Mmmmmmm..." Draco ran his hands down Harry's bare back to his butt, pulling him close until their newly hardening cocks pressed into each other.

Draco gasped and Harry groaned, before spinning the Slytherin back around and pressing him into the wall with his body. "_Lub-ri-cus Acq-ui-es-co_," Harry breathed slowly into Draco's ear, drawing the words out in an agonizingly slow lust-filled voice and making the Slytherin moan in anticipation as he felt himself loosen up, already prepared for what was coming.

"Gods, Harry," Draco panted, "You're getting good at that."

o-o-o

At the pre-decided time, Hermione and Ron headed back to the Room of Requirement. They brought some of Harry's clothes with them, since they had gone right from the hospital wing to the room the day before, and Harry only had his Quidditch robes.

When they entered, they found Draco fully dressed, but Harry wearing only his trousers. When he saw that they had remembered to bring him clothes, he changed into them behind a screen that had appeared in the corner of the room, before banishing his Quidditch robes with a silent sweep of his hand. They flew across the room, and waited while the door opened for them before flying out into the hall. The door closed with a snap behind them.

"Wow, Harry." Herminone sounded impressed, "You're getting good at that."

Harry and Draco shared a silent grin. It lasted a few seconds before Harry responded, "Yeah, we found out this week that some spells are actually easier if I don't use the incantation."

"Though some are more fun if you do." Draco added, still grinning but finally collecting his things.

Harry smiled shyly to himself, before looking back at Hermione and Ron. "So how did it go? Is there a lynch mob waiting down in the Great Hall?"

Hermione and Ron shared a look. "Uh, Harry. We didn't quite get the reaction we expected." Harry couldn't read the look on Ron's face.

Hermione explained, "Some people were curious, they wanted to know how long we had known about you two and if we thought this was some evil scheme of You Know Who's."

"-or Draco's," Ron added.

Harry gave them time to continue, and when neither of them did so, he prompted, "So, what reaction DID you get?"

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Uh, well, it looks like someone's gone to the press."

"WHAT!" Harry bellowed as Draco plopped down on the sofa, both were thinking about Draco's father.

"Well," Hermione seemed to be trying to diffuse the situation. "It just so happens that Witch Weekly comes out every Saturday night, and there's an article..."

"Witch Weekly?" He didn't like where this was going.

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a magazine. Draco shot off the sofa and went to stand with Harry as she held the magazine up to them. On the cover was an image that showed Harry and Draco, both in profile, gazing intensely at each other, not moving but for the occasional blink. Between them were printed the words, 'Star Crossed Lovers.'

Draco grabbed the magazine out of her hands, quickly flipping through the pages to the article.

"Be careful with that. Lavender only let me borrow her copy if I swore to protect it with my life."

When they found the right page, they read it silently together. The article gave a short history of both Harry's and Draco's circumstances, telling a story of the two boys finding love despite being on opposite sides in the war. Though the reporter didn't have access to the specific details, the story was strikingly accurate. The article ended with a warning, "Lets hope the tale of Harry and Draco, through fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, is not a tale of all too f 'miliar woe."

When they had finished the article, Draco handed it back to Hermione. "Well," he said, "It's not as bad as it could have been."

"The article is actually quite good," Hermione nodded, "Did you notice that the whole thing was written in Iambic pentameter?"

"How are people taking this?" Harry asked.

"Well, there was a pull-out poster that came with the article. It's the same picture as the cover, actually, but full-length. You can't tell, but you guys are both wearing your Quidditch robes in it. Lavender has already stuck hers to the inside of the door to our dorms with a permanent sticking charm."

"The girls are all going gaga over this," Ron said carefully, not yet knowing how Harry was taking it.

"We've only seen or spoken to the Gryffindors, mind you," Hermione added, looking at Draco, "but the response is overwhelmingly positive there."

"Do any Slytherins subscribe to Witch Weekly?" Harry turned to Draco, who had moved back and was leaning against the arm of the sofa.

"I know Pansy does," he replied, not looking up. He leaned there for a moment, still staring down at his shoes, before finally meeting Harry's gaze. At last, he got up and sauntered over to Harry, grabbing the Gryffindor's face and planting a short, but passionate kiss there. Pulling back, he asked, in a tone Harry thought was far too chipper, "Well, are you ready?"

Harry leaned forward and nodded against the Slytherin's forehead. "Say it one more time." He sounded nervous.

Draco pulled back so he could look Harry in the eye."Harry, I love you."

o-o-o

They entered the Great Hall amid stares and the roar of chatter. Draco made his way to the Gryffindor table, knowing that by doing so he was sending a very clear message. He purposefully did not look over toward the Slytherin table, half-fearing what he would find there.

Harry, on the other hand, scanned over every bit of the room he could see. Many girls were leaning toward their neighbours, whispering behind their hands. Their conversations peppered with giggles or sighs. A few of the boys were shooting the couple similar looks. If Harry's interpretation of the looks was accurate, there was a higher proportion of gay students at Hogwarts than he had ever assumed. Even among the Slytherins, there were quite a few appreciative looks from both females and a few males, though more Slytherins than anyone else seemed unhappy about the situation.

When they reached the Gryffindor table, Harry and Draco sat side-by-side, Ron sat on Draco's right, and Hermione on Harry's left.

"How can a girl be this excited over finding out that two boys will have absolutely no interest in her?" Ron said it under his breath, but the other three still heard him.

"Well, its romantic, isn't it?" Hermione leaned across Harry to offer.

"There's probably another dimension to it too," Draco added.

"What could that possibly be?" Ron still sounded dumfounded.

Draco was smirking. He leaned in and whispered in Ron's ear. Ron's eyes went wide, but otherwise he didn't move.

"You mean they're thinking about you and Harry..."

"Well," Draco concluded. "Other than Hermione, think about two witches you find attractive." When Ron nodded, Draco added, "Now picture them..."

Ron thought for a moment, his cheeks turning redder by the second. "Oh." He finally said, hastily downing his pumpkin juice in one giant gulp.

They began eating their breakfast. Harry had forgotten about the rest of the school and was simply focused on his sausages when Draco leaned over and whispered in his ear. "There's a small blonde boy a few seats down who has been glancing up at us since we got here. It looks like he's trying to get your attention." When Harry looked up, he saw that it was Colin Creevey.

"Hey, Colin, what's wrong?"

The younger boy got up. He walked down the table closer to the group of four, and handed something to Harry, his eyes travelling between Harry and Draco as he did so.

Harry looked at the packet in his hand. "Swish and Flick, what's this?"

Draco looked over at it, "Oh. It's a gay wizard's publication."

Harry found that fascinating. "I didn't know they had such things." He opened it and began flipping through it, eating with one hand as he did so. After about a minute, just as Harry had taken a drink of pumpkin juice, he choked and sputtered, before breaking into a coughing fit and spilling some of his drink in his haste to put the cup back down on the table.

Curious, Hermione looked over his shoulder at the magazine page he had just turned to. "Oh my! Uhhhh."

Draco, his interest peaked, leaned over Harry's other shoulder. "Hmmm, we haven't tried THAT one yet."

Colin, who was still standing there, blushed.

Wanting to know what all the fuss was about, Ron leaned across Draco to see what they were all looking at. On the page was a strikingly realistic, Ron noted, full-page drawing of Harry and Draco having sex while flying on a broomstick.

Harry closed the magazine and handed it back to Colin. As the younger boy walked away, Harry leaned toward Draco and whispered. "We need to get a subscription to that magazine."

o-o-o

They decided that it would be a bad idea for Harry and Draco to lock themselves away from everyone else, which would undoubtedly ignite the flames of the rumour mill. Instead they tried to go about their day like they would any other Sunday, except that Draco was openly spending time with Gryffindors instead of Slytherins. Of course, wherever the four of them went, stares and giggles followed in their wake, especially when Harry and Draco touched, no matter how small or off-handed-ly. Noticing this, and enjoying the attention, Draco made sure that the small touches were frequent.

"What's the bet that we can make a Hufflepuff faint by noon?" Draco leaned in and whispered to the other three as they sat around a study table in the library.

"Now, really Draco!" Hermione shook her head. "Do you think this a good idea?"

"What? It's already in Witch Weekly, everyone knows by now. A Galleon says one of them drops if I rest my hand on Harry's thigh."

"No way, do you see Pansy over in the paleomagical beast section? Unfortunately for you, mate, I think a Slytherin will be the first to go." Ron grinned toward Draco to accentuate his challenge.

"Weasley, it is on!"

Draco turned toward Harry and put a hand on his thigh near his knee. Harry looked up to rolled his eyes at Draco, but the wry grin slid off his face when he saw the Slytherin, who was starting to develop a certain twinkle in his eyes that Harry knew meant trouble was coming. Draco slowly slid his hand up Harry's thigh, surprised at the quickening in his own pulse as he inched higher, finally stopping near the green-eyed boy's groin and giving his thigh a firm squeeze through his trousers. Harry visibly swallowed and reddened at this, caught in Draco's intense gaze. Both boys had begun breathing more heavily, forgetting about everything that was going on around them...

Until they heard a crash from the paleomagical beast section, which startled them out of the moment. Pansy had started jumping up and down and squealing, and had tripped over her own bag.

Ron was laughing so hard his face was as red as his hair while Draco tried to claim that she had tripped, not fainted, and therefore it didn't count. The murmurs around them had also increased, and Madam Pince swooped down, looking for someone to berate. Finding Pansy on the floor with a number of library books from the shelf above her in her lap, the librarian's attention immediately turned to the Slytherin girl, which gave Draco and the three Gryffindors an opening to escape into one of the study rooms without being seen.

Hermione shut the door behind them and tried to give the boys a stern look, but Ron was still laughing, and she was not succeeding in keeping the smile off her own face.

"I suppose it could be worse. I went to sleep last night thinking I would spend the rest of my time at Hogwarts fighting off Unforgivables. At least with this reaction I can have some fun."

The mention of unforgivable curses, which Harry had had more experience with than anyone else in the room, sobered the black-haired boy up rather quickly. "Yeah, but Draco, with this fervour, surely your father has heard about this, or will soon."

"I didn't think I was ever going to go back there anyway. Even if he didn't find out which side I was on, do you think I would WANT to go back?"

"But, what about your mother?"

Draco didn't say anything, only looked down at the floor looking sadder than Ron or Hermione had ever seen him.

Hermione gave him a minute before getting everyone back on track to research wandless magic.

o-o-o

"Uhh, something just occurred to me." Harry broke the silence after a quarter of an hour had passed. "What about Lumos?"

"Do you still carry your wand with you?"

"Only this fake one," Harry pulled it out of his pocket, "I haven't been able to perform a proper spell with a wand for months."

"Yes, well, a wizard must be holding a wand to perform Lumos. I suspect that is a spell that will be of no use to you from now on-"

"That's not true. A wizard doesn't have to be holding a wand to perform Lumos, it just has to be nearby."

"Magical Theory: The Basics clearly states that a wizard MUST be holding a wand to perform Lumos."

"Well Magical Theory: The Basics is wrong, I've lit one without actually touching it."

Both Draco and Hermione looked surprised when Harry said this.

"When the Dementors attacked Little Whinging, I dropped my wand in the dark and couldn't find it. I said 'Lumos' out of habit, because I couldn't see a thing, but my wand actually lit. I wasn't touching it at all."

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

"Didn't seem important at the time, with everything else going on."

"Well, why don't you try it?" Draco asked.

Harry closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. When he didn't move for a few seconds, Hermione leaned toward Draco and whispered, "What is he doing?"

Draco, who appeared unconcerned over that fact that Harry wasn't moving, merely continued flipping through the pages of his book as he answered, "He's just figuring out how to go about performing the spell. It won't take a minute."

Hermione looked again toward Harry, intrigued. "How does that work?"

Draco merely shrugged and continued flipping through his book.

Finally, Harry's eyes snapped open and he said, "_lumos_."

Their small room was bathed in light. The tip of Hermione's wand, which was lying on the table, ignited. So, too, did the tip of Rons, where it stuck out from the wand pocket in his bag. Curious, Draco reached into his sleeve to pull out the wand he had stashed there before leaving the Room of Requirement that morning. Its tip also glowed.

Ron got up to look out the small window in the door to the study room. "Blimey!" he said, causing Harry, Draco, and Hermione to get up and peer through the small window to the main library beside him. Every wand in the library was lit. Many people were looking around curiously, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Uhhh..._nox_?" Harry said, making the wands all go dark again.

"We're going to have to work on that one a bit more."

When they had all taken their places around the table and began looking through their books again, Hermione asked, "How do you determine the way you'll do the spells? You spoke earlier of sometimes finding it easier to not use the incantation. How does it all work, exactly?"

"Well, I sort of had to relearn everything. We were originally taught to say the incantations properly, and to use the correct wand movements, but that is all just to ensure we are properly focused. It was hard to maintain that focus without having the movements to focus on, but once I figured out the real reason for the movements in the first place, they seemed so unnecessary. Then I realised the words are equally as unnecessary, as long as you're focused properly. Instead of focusing on what I need to do to make things happen, I just make them happen. It's more efficient."

Hermione looked confused, so Harry pointed to a book that sat on the opposite end of the table. "Let's say I want to move that book. Why bother saying 'wingardium leviosa' and doing the swish and flick with a wand, when I can just move the book? Look." Harry reached out in the direction of the book and swept his hand upward. The book rose, and hovered above their heads. Harry flicked his finger toward Ron, and the book moved toward him. Harry twirled his wrist, and the book flipped over so that the front cover faced the ceiling. Finally he lowered his hand, and the book landed softly on top of the book that was already laid out before Ron.

"Open it to page 100," Ron said, impressed.

Harry flicked his wrist again, and the cover of the book opened. With a few flicks of his fingers, Harry found the right page.

"It's all the same spell, but why call it wingarium leviosa when it can do so much more? It's not just lifting and hovering. If you put a different amount of pressure on one side of the book than the other, you can make it spin or flip, if you pull at it from different sides, you could rip it apart. It's exactly what you would normally do with your hands, but it's not limited by physical strength. You can lift people, furniture; I bet with the right amount of focus you could even lift trees or buildings. Different kinds of spells are different too. I had a hard time with Incendio for a while, until I thought about rubbing a match on a rough surface to create a fire. Now I just snap my fingers, and focus on the friction and heat building between my fingers." He snapped his fingers and a fire appeared at his finger tips, then he raised his palm up beneath the fire and made it hover a few inches above his hand. When he closed his hand around it, it disappeared. "Once you can create it, you know how to extinguish it. It's the same thing with conjuring water, except I need focus on wetness, so I lick my lips. For wind, I focus on my breath. Lumos was tricky, because it's not like you can find a light to focus on in the dark. I imagined the sun reflecting off a Snitch, but I didn't aim my focus anywhere, so I guess it went everywhere. Transfiguration is getting a little easier to figure out too, now that I know how to go about thinking about it."

"Some of that makes sense, if you think about the energy/mass equivalent." Hermione looked deep in thought.

"I was just thinking that." Draco nodded at her, "But where does the energy come from?"

"Well, think about it," Hermione got up and moved to the small chalk board on the wall opposite the door, where she picked up a piece of chalk and wrote E=MC2. "Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared. Mass and energy are essentially different forms of the same thing. Mass can be destroyed to create energy, and energy can be condensed to create mass. Magic is just one type of energy. Harry is utilizing energy, in the form of his magical focus, to create mass."

Draco was already shaking his head by the time she had finished speaking. He got up and joined her at the board. "But the equation tells us the relationship between the two forms. The speed of light is three times ten to the eighth metres per second," he began writing numbers and symbols on the board, "square that and you get nine times ten to the sixteenth metres squared over seconds squared. That is a huge number. So, it takes a miniscule amount of mass to release a lot of energy, or conversely, it takes a massive amount of energy to create a tiny amount of mass. But energy or magic cannot be created or destroyed, it can only change forms. I know how powerful Harry is, believe me, probably more than anyone else on the planet knows, but that is just too much energy. Where does it come from before Harry uses it? When we do magic it comes from our wands, but what about Harry?"

"Well, it doesn't really COME from our wands," Hermione began, while writing another string of numbers and symbols on the board beneath what Draco had written.

Ron leaned toward Harry, "Oh no, they're talking Arithmancy again."

Harry shook his head and leaned toward Ron. "Are you getting anything from this?"

"Yeah, a couple things."

When Harry looked at Ron with raised eyebrows, the taller boy continued. "I can see that Hermione and Draco are both boffins."

"Sexy boffins." Harry laughed.

"Yes, but boffins nonetheless. And I can see that Draco writes like a girl."

"If by 'writes like a girl' you mean 'has excellent penmanship' rather than the chicken scratch that you and Harry like to call writing, then yes, I'd have to agree, I write like a girl."

"Anyway," Hermione interrupted, "it seems Harry has a closer connection to the universe than the rest of us, and can draw energy from around him when he needs it. He can draw more than we can, since he doesn't have a wand acting as a filter."

"That explains why his spells have been too much at first, he needed to learn to be his own filter," Draco agreed, "But how do you think the equation might be affected when you dampen the source in this way?" He began crossing out numbers and adding symbols.

Harry leaned in closer to Ron and whispered, "When Hermione has tried to explain this type of stuff to us before, did you ever get the unbearable urge to rip all your clothes off and throw yourself at her?"

"Um, no." Ron looked flabbergasted.

Harry sat back and smiled, biting his lip. "It's a good thing I didn't take Arithmancy," he said, his focus aimed at Draco's back. Draco dropped the chalk midway through writing a number on the board and gasped. Hermione looked toward him in concern, but he only stood there for a second, before turning, grabbing Harry, and dragging him toward the door. "Why don't we take a break for a few hours? Meet you back here after lunch?" Harry suggested, grinning at Ron as Draco pulled him out of the room.

"Uhhh, yeah. A good thing for everybody you didn't take Arithmancy!" Ron yelled after them.

End Chapter Seventeen


	18. Chapter 18

Harry Potter and the Unsettling Discovery

Ch. 18

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.-Elie Wiesel

The next day was their first day of regular classes since what Draco had begun calling "The Revelation." Despite their joking the day before, they didn't really know what to expect once they found themselves in forced close proximity to the rest of the school. Sunday night, Draco had avoided going back to Slytherin by again spending the night in the room of requirement. Hermione had advised him that this wasn't a good idea, but he would not be persuaded. Harry had wanted to stay with him again, but Hermione had put her foot down and said that at least one of them would need to face the music. Of course, it had been a relatively uneventful night among the other Gryffindors for Harry, filled mostly with Seamus's lewd jokes until a first year had told him, "Lay off Harry and Draco."

At breakfast, Draco had again sat at the Gryffindor table, even though he arrived at the Great Hall before Harry. He was partly relieved when the little blond boy from the day before, Colin he thought he remembered Harry calling him, chose to sit across from him, because he had become aware that the Gryffindors were not sitting near him like the Hufflepuffs had done two days earlier, but given the circumstances, he was more unnerved than amused. They hadn't spoken at all, but still he was glad to not be sitting alone at the end of the long table. Hermione had joined them next, sitting next to Colin and nodding a greeting to Draco as she did. Finally, Ron and Harry had come in and joined them as well, and Draco was at last at ease.

They got their first shock of the day when the mail arrived, bringing owl after owl laden with letters. As they came, both boys secretly scanned the letters before them for any hint of red envelope, but did not see any. Draco was the first to open one, from the pile in front of him that was quite a bit smaller than Harry's. He opened it slowly and unfolded it carefully, watching for any sign of danger. When none came, he read the letter. It commended him on going against his father, and allowing his heart to guide him in finding true love in the child of his enemy. 'This shows your heart is true, and I have faith that if you follow it, it will lead you to the right decision in all matters. Good luck to you and Harry.' It was from a witch in Kent he had never even heard of. Heartened, he opened another, which professed how romantic it was that he and Harry had found each other, despite their obstacles, and warned him that if this was the foundation of some evil plot, he should never show his face in public again, lest he find himself lacking skin.

"Wow." He liked that one.

Draco loved the attention, and opened each subsequent letter with a flourish. There were some that were outright nasty, claiming that the writer KNEW that he was still evil. There were some that claimed that this was proof that Harry was also evil, and had secretly been a dark wizard the whole time, an assertion that actually made Draco laugh out loud. There were many that contained warnings on what would happen to him if he hurt Harry. There were a couple that contained the pull-out poster of him and Harry from Witch Weekly, asking for them to sign it. For those two he pulled out a quill right away, quickly inking his own regal script across the right side of the page, before handing the quill to Harry to sign the other side, and returned them with the Owl they came with. Most were harmless, merely wishing him well, or offering support in some way.

Draco was enjoying the spotlight, but Harry was just nervous about Draco's father and the other Death Eaters. He looked toward the Slytherin table, where he was greeted with more than a few scowls. This painted a target on Draco just as big as the one Harry had grown used to carrying.

This fear was cemented in his mind on the way to their first class. Draco had finally banished the unopened letters up to the Room of Requirement so he and Harry could eat their breakfast. Harry was glad their first class would be Potions, so he had an excuse to stay with Draco longer. It quickly became apparent that, though the majority of people either supported Harry and Draco or could care less either way, those people where the type that kept a respectful distance. The only ones who saw fit to actively engage the Gryffindor and Slytherin were those who disapproved, which mostly happened to be Slytherins.

"So, Draco is an open bender now."

"He's always been open about that, he only just decided to let us know that he was a blood-traitor as well."

Harry and Draco had both turned toward Zabini and Nott, ready to say something back, when to their surprise, Pansy Parkinson stepped forward first. "You plebeians have been jealous of Draco since first year. He's got more respect than you, he's better looking than you, he's smarter than you, and now, who knows, maybe you've both been secretly lusting over Potter, and are just feeling cranky because Draco beat you to him."

In the short time it took for the two Slytherins to begin to sputter, trying to come up with a suitable denial or come back, Pansy had produced a wand and was pointing it at Zabini's throat. "Either way, I think I've made myself clear."

Just then, the door to the potions classroom opened, and Snape took in the scene before him. Harry and Draco stood to the side, looking both surprised and amused. Pansy Parkinson pointed a wand at Blaise Zabini, who stood frozen to the spot with fear, and Theodore Nott stood just behind Zabini, trying, and it seemed failing, to appear menacing. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stood to the other side, identical shocked expressions on their faces.

"Really? Fighting in the halls? I expected better from Slytherins. Really more what I'd expect from Gryffindors. In fact, twenty points from Gryffindor, who I'm sure is behind this little display of childish posturing."

He turned and swept back into the classroom, leaving the door open behind him for his students to follow.

What had followed had been the longest double potions Harry had ever endured. Snape had been particularly nasty to him, separating them into pairs he thought would be the most painful. He explained that, ideally, the pairs for working on this particular potion should be male/female, but since there were only three females and five males in NEWT-level potions, they would have to make certain substitutions. Ron was paired with Esmarelda Botch, a Slytherin who usually kept to herself. Pansy was paired with Zabini, each party glaring at the other throughout the class period. Draco was paired with Hermione, causing Snape to scowl when they greeted each other warmly as they moved to the cauldron Snape had indicated they should work around. Unfortunately, this soured Snape's mood even more. "Nott, I'm sorry we don't have a female for you to partner with; you'll have to make do with Harry Potter, though I daresay, you might find the substitution close enough." He indicated that they should sit at the front cauldron, the one set up closest to Snape's desk. Harry was sure this was so that Snape could have easiest access to insult him as often as possible throughout the class period, and he was not let down. He found himself the target of constant jibes, references to his sexuality, and general goading from both Snape and Nott. He did not rise to the bait and respond, though he did note that Draco still seemed to be exempt from Snape's targeting. He assumed that this meant that Snape really didn't care so much about the gender of Draco's love interest, so much as the fact that he was Harry Potter. Of course, being targeted for who you are (or who your parents were), was no less depressing than being targeted for what you are. Still, Harry ignored them as well as he could, and was thankful when the end of class came.

"Well, you wouldn't mind cleaning up, Potter-" Nott had said as he spilled a jar of dove's blood off the edge of the table on his way toward the door, "-I'm sure you're aching for any excuse to get down on your hands and knees."

"Five more points from Gryffindor, Potter, for wasting a jar of dove's blood."

Draco looked toward the front of the room at Snape's loud pronouncement, then stopped Hermione as she began to pack up their supplies. "No, you go on, I'll clean up. Ron is probably impatient to get down to lunch. We'll be down in a few minutes."

She looked up at Harry, who was sopping up blood from the floor with an already sodden rag, with sympathy before nodding at Draco and joining Ron, who was waiting by the door.

As Draco made his way to the front of the room, Snape swept by him on his way out. "Make sure he doesn't cause any more damage," Snape shot at him as they passed. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the two boys alone.

After giving a quick look around to ensure that no one else was in the room, Harry magically got rid of the mess with a silent sweep of his hand. With a hand from Draco he got back up, sitting down heavily on his stool.

"I forgot my fake wand today, so I couldn't use magic in front of others." As Draco placed a comforting hand on his lower back, Harry asked, "Why does he hate me so much?"

"I don't think he hates you."

Harry looked at him sarcastically over his glasses, which Draco found alluring. He wrapped a hand around the other boy's neck and began messaging the muscles just below his dark hairline. "I actually don't. I think he's testing you. He doesn't approve of you, and he thinks I'm crazy for being with you, but he cares about me, and I think he's hoping you'll prove him wrong."

"No, this has been going on since I was eleven. I think he genuinely hates me."

"He may have hated your father, which he takes out on you, but he doesn't hate you. I think he was looking forward to not having you in his life after the war, but with how important you are in my life, he's going to have to deal with you. As my Godfather, he-"

"SNAPE is your Godfather?"

"Yes, so you can see why he's taking the news so strongly." Harry's shoulders slumped, and Draco gave him a quick kiss on the back of the neck as he rose from his own stool. "Come on, let's go to lunch."

They made their way through the largely deserted dungeons. As most of the students had already gone to lunch, all was quiet. But in an instant everything changed. Harry and Draco were making their way through a portion of the hallway that was slightly narrower and darker than the rest, and they walked nearer to each other as a result. Just as their hands happened to brush each other, Draco felt a jolt of malice shoot through his mind. Confused, he stopped in his tracks. Harry kept walking, and was a few feet away before he finally realised Draco had stopped moving.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I felt something weird."

"Like what?"

Draco just shook his head, not able to explain what had happened. Concerned, Harry walked back to Draco and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, Draco knew something was wrong. A confusing swell of negative emotion swept through his mind, making him sick to his stomach in its intensity. So powerful was the contempt he felt, he couldn't even think straight, not even able to form a thought, until, out of nowhere, one word came to mind. _NOW_.

Automatically, Harry threw his arms around Draco and pushed with all his weight until both boys were flat on the ground, just as a yellow flash of light shot through the air, going through the spot both boys had been standing seconds before, and hitting the wall behind with such force that a large chunk of stone was knocked loose and fell to the floor, cracking the floor when it landed.

Face to face, laying on the floor, both boys stared at each other in confusion, until they hear a voice coming just around the bend. "Go see if it hit them."

Harry sprung into action so quickly Draco didn't have time to figure out what was going on. The Gryffindor turned, still on his knees, and silently flung a stunning spell from the palm of his hand. Draco heard it hit its target, and a sickening thud followed suit, followed by the stomp of heavy footsteps running down the hall in the opposite direction.

Harry stood upright, helping Draco up as he did so, and both boys made their way toward the bend in the hall. When they approached it, they saw a figure sprawled at the base of the wall, and upon closer inspection, they found that it was Vincent Crabbe. Once they had ascertained that he was knocked out, they turned back toward each other, confused.

"How did you know-?" They both started at the same time. When neither finished what they were going to say, Draco started up again.

"How did you know to get us out of the way?"

"You told me to. How did you know they were going to attack before they actually did?"

"I-I didn't. I think I, I felt what they were thinking. But Harry, I never said a thing, I didn't get a chance. It was all so confusing. You just reacted automatically."

"No I heard you, you said, 'duck,'"

"I didn't say anything Harry."

Harry looked down at Crabbe, not quite sure what had happened.

"I don't know either," Draco said.

"What?" Harry was confused.

"I don't know what happened either."

Shocked, Harry stared at Draco. It was so dark in the portion of the hall they were standing in, the bend of the hall blocking the light from the torches and creating a shadow, Harry could barely see Draco's outline, much less his expression. He couldn't tell if Draco was pulling his leg.

"I'm not, I swear."

_Draco, can you hear me?_ Harry thought silently to himself.

"Of course I can hear you!"

_Are you aware that I'm not actually speaking?_

"What? Of course you're...Oh, for the love of..._lumos." _Finally, they could see each other clearly in the light of Draco's wand.

_I'm not speaking, Draco, you're reading my mind._

"Reading your..." _That's not possible._

_Well, apparently, it is. Because you're doing it._

_Wait, Harry, you're doing it too._

_I don't think so..._

_Are my lips moving?_

"Oh, my god!"

_No kidding, Harry._

_But I didn't hear their thoughts, only yours._

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Let's go see Hermione."

When they finally made it to the Great hall they sat down carefully at the Gryffindor table, listening intently.

"What took you two so long? We were getting worried."

"Uhh, we sort of got attacked down in the dungeons."

"Attacked! Harry, are you alright?"

"Yes, we're fine. I stunned Crabbe before he got us, the other one got away."

"Stunned Crabbe? Harry, did he see you perform magic without a wand?"

"No, they were around the corner; we didn't even see who it was until after."

"You should tell Dumbledore, mate."

_Can you tell what any of them are thinking?_

_No not at all, you?_

_No._ _Maybe it only works where we're in danger?_

_I don't know. _Draco remained focused on Hermione, trying to read her thoughts, while Harry began piling his plate with food.

"You should eat something." Harry nudged Draco with his shoulder, and Draco again felt a jolt like the one he had felt down in the hall, but instead of malice, he felt a wave of worry, and a jumbled litany of terms and definitions in Arithmancy, as well as a concern for Harry and Draco, flying through his head at such speed, it left him dizzy. Still focused as he was on Hermione, sitting with her brow furrowed and bending over an open book as she ate, he almost had to laugh.

"You're actually worried about the Arithmancy NEWTs? If anyone has it in the bag, it's you Granger!"

She looked up at him, surprised.

"And we're really fine. I promise. That was nothing Harry couldn't handle."

"Is it happening again?"

Draco nodded at Harry.

Hermione had just opened her mouth to speak, but Draco was already answering her unasked question.

"It seems we may have discovered a new dimension to our connection."

"What is it?" Ron looked up, curiosity evident in his voice, despite the mouth full of food.

Draco shifted his focus to Ron, and tried to project his thoughts the way he had been doing to Harry. Ron just continued looking at them and chewing.

_I don't think he can hear you. _Harry's voice again filled Draco's head.

Draco and Harry looked at each other, before turning toward the other couple and saying, "Let's go to the room."

End Chapter Eighteen

TBC

A/N: Only a few more chapters left. I really do appreciate reviews. Thank you to those of you who have written reviews so far, and thank you in advance to those who are about to write one now. The review button can be found immediately below this sentence, hugs and kisses to you if you click on it.


End file.
